


The Enforcer: Between Heaven and Hell

by Nitrin



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Scheming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-21 05:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 76,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2455952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrin/pseuds/Nitrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate version of season 2 (written before canon season 2 aired)</p><p>Weeks after the end of season 1, Michael licks his wounds as another archangel reminds him of who he was and who he is now. Noma and Alex find themselves deeper in Gabriel's world. Claire fights for Vega at all costs with David as a constant political rival. Arika and Uriel continue on with their own maneuvers. Meanwhile, Gabriel continues to plot ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Needle

After the onslaught of angels versus humans, so many cities became shells of their former glory. Broken infrastructure, abandoned homes, destroyed spaces and various debris littered metropolises across the world.

In Seattle, it was no different. What was once the glorious restaurant at the top of the Space Needle was now an abandoned perch above the deserted city. A hodge-podge of equipment, broken tables and chairs were strewn about the now abandoned establishment. Some of the windows were blown out and glass was scattered everywhere.

A small clearing was made near one of the glassless windows. A few crates were set up in a large semi-circle as a small boundary between the clearing and the rest of the chaos. Lanterns and candles were placed on top of the crates, dimly illuminating the area. Within the debris-less space sat a queen-sized bed propped up on cinder blocks. Its sheets were in disarray as if its occupant had a restless night.

With his back against one of the cinder blocks, Michael sat barefoot on the floor with his legs splayed out in front of him. Dressed solely in his black pants, Michael looked disheveled with tousled hair that had grown a bit in the past few weeks since his departure from Vega. He looked like he hadn't slept in a long time and his usually passive face seemed pensive as he stared out of the glassless window. An empty bottle of bourbon was lying nearby while he lightly gripped another half-empty bottle of bourbon in his hand.

It was just past twilight and the clouds were roiling across the darkening sky. Something winged was weaving between the tufts of grey.

Michael took another gulp and then froze as he noticed the shadow of wings in the distance. He tried to concentrate through his drunken haze, wondering if he was seeing things. And then he saw it again as the winged something was getting ever closer.

Sighing, he didn't move. If someone was coming, it didn't matter. It was better if he just stayed put. The regret and guilt he had felt had been beyond overwhelming as he flew at top speed away from Vega five weeks ago. The image of Becca's blank face and empty eyes as she lay dead and broken on the floor still haunted him. It was burned into his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment trying to banish the stray thoughts that flickered past. Thoughts of his terrible actions. His indiscretions. All the regret, the death, the adrenaline, the intoxication of losing one's self…it was…too much. He took another long draught from the bottle. Drinking was the one thing that seemed to stop some of the images that kept coming every night. Finding alcohol had been a task in itself, but Michael had found some in the restaurant's locked reserves.

He stared at the bottle in his lap for a moment and then looked up at the over-sized window as the sound of wings overpowered him. Michael was sure that whoever it was would mostly try to put an end to him. And perhaps it would be the best for everyone if that were the case. Father had abandoned them all for so long. Did it even matter anymore? Alex was probably with Gabriel now after all that had happened. Noma was gone too and perhaps even dead.

And he… he had done something terrible again. His redemption was a lost cause.

A figure landed on the windowsill; a tall dark shadow with dark black and blue wings spread out and overpowering any remaining light from the darkening sky.

Michael looked up at the figure with blurry eyes and a softened look of awe. The bourbon bottle slipped from his fingers and it clattered to the ground as he stayed perfectly still, slumped against the cinder block.

The figure's wings flapped once and then slowly tucked themselves away, disappearing as the darkened one stayed perfectly balanced on the windowsill.

"What did you do, Michael?"

A look of pain crossed Michael's face.


	2. Found

The desert was empty and vast with red sand being kicked up into the air as the wind blew by. A small oasis of green was the only respite from the stark harshness. Small hardy goats were grazing the few patches of grass among a collection of tents and huts that were cobbled together. It was not that long after the Flood, but enough time had passed that the survivors had been able to put together some semblance of a life.

A young boy squatted by a fire, stoking it with a short stick. A water-filled metal cup sat almost in the fire. He waited patiently.

A loud groan came from the small tent behind him. He didn't move, now used to the sound. The boy knew when he had seen the bloodied heap of a man moaning in the desert that it had been the violent murdering Enforcer. Michael's beaten form had been lying by a small collection of rocks and broken wreckage, aching and feverish with infection. The boy knew that he was the Archangel who had killed almost everyone he knew and destroyed the life he had once had. But for some reason, pity was all that came to him upon seeing the angel with broken wings and battered body. Once intimidating and frightening, the angel was reduced to a heap of blood, bruises and bile.

The boy had stopped and given him some of his water. The look that Michael had given him was all that it had taken for the boy to approach him. Michael had questioned him, wondering if the boy knew who he was and if so, why would he help him despite all that had occurred? The boy had responded with, "Because it's the right thing to do." The surprise on Michael's face had been clear, but it only reinforced what the boy knew to be true. That sometimes doing what was right was not always the easiest thing to do, but still the true path. And compassion was not something he had lost, despite all that Michael had done.

He remembered the stricken look on Michael's swollen broken face. He had helped the archangel as best as he could, bringing him to a small shelter he had put together for himself. He tried to help him with his wounds, but the pain that the angel was in was unbearable. And then the fever seemed to make Michael forget where he was, often confused by the boy's presence. He would cry out in pain and call out for his siblings or someone named 'Azrael' while he slept. And often there was some gibberish about his Father.

Days had passed since Michael had been brought to the tent and all the boy could do was try to feed him and be there for him. He had tried to clean the angel's wounds when Michael would allow it, but often the angel would lash out in a haze. His broken wings had stopped bleeding finally, but they were crumpled and useless. Michael had seen better days. The boy had a feeling that the angel was going to die soon. If angels could die. He wasn't really sure.

The water was steaming in the metal cup and the boy carefully pulled it out of the fire with his stick. He was about to pick it up when a dark shadow fell over him from above. A distinctive winged shadow. His heart felt like it stopped all together as he stumbled away from the fire and tried to find the source of the shadow.

The sound of wings beating filled his ears as blind panic made him run back to the tent, quickly tucking inside and falling to his knees near Michael's prone form. The angel lay on his side on a blanket in the dirt. His broken wings were crumpled behind him. The boy scrambled closer to him and then froze. Why should he go to the one angel who had killed everyone he had loved? His conflict distracted him momentarily and then the darkened tent was suddenly illuminated as the tent flap opened and a tall figure stood in the opening. The bright light outside obscured the figure's features completely, making the figure one large imposing shadow. A shadow that fell over the boy.

The bright light fell over Michael and it roused him from his feverish stupor, causing him to squint into the light with one of his eyes. His other one was still swollen shut. He lifted his arm and tried to see who was standing in the opening, having almost no energy to move much of anything else.

The figure moved closer, letting the flap close. In the dim light, the boy shook, still frozen to the spot as he stared up at the tall female angel standing in the middle of the tent. She looked formidable and was dressed in battle armor with two short swords strapped in a crisscrossed fashion at the base of her lower back. With long dark hair and green eyes, she was beautiful and exotic looking with a fierceness that rivaled Michael's pre-Flood days. Her expression was stoic, cold and alien as she looked down at the boy.

"Leave. Now." Her voice was commanding and had a strange lilt to it.

The boy scurried out of the tent after a moment's hesitation, glancing back at Michael only for a second before disappearing outside.

Groaning, Michael had tried to sit up but gave up and instead stared up at her. She was not who he had expected and his heart jumped at the sight of Azrael standing there, staring down at him. Her face looked fierce and angry, as she looked him over.

With voice harsh with disuse, he gravelly asked, "Did Father send you?"

She stared at him blankly with her hand resting on one of the sword handles.

Resigned, he said, "You've come to finish what Gabriel and Uriel have started."

Azrael kept her tone even as she looked at Michael's broken body. It was hard for her to see him this way. "What have you done, Michael?"

He closed his eye and tried not to moan as he shifted once more. The pain in his wings radiated through him. Michael knew he deserved this and couldn't bear to ask for her help, even though he really wanted it.

Azrael's voice was a harsh whisper as she spoke once more. "I left to do as I was told, handle the lower angels and their rebellious acts, only to find when I returned that you were… gone." She paused, her anger fading a little with her concern. "To find Gabriel and Uriel not speaking of you… to the unrest among the higher angels. As if you were gone for good." Her voice lowered as if he had been lost forever. Emotion threatened to get the better of her.

She shifted, her hand leaving the sword finally.

Azrael had still not stepped closer to him and it pained him. All he wanted was for her to hold him now, to hug him and to heal him. He sighed, surprised at his own reaction to her. He had not realized how much he needed her. "I failed Father, Azrael." His voice cracked with disuse and pain.

She stared at him with that unnerving look of hers. Michael wondered if maybe this was what humans felt sometimes when he looked at them. She was thinking and probably weighing his words.

Her head tilted slightly in acknowledgment of him. "It was a test." She paused, still mulling it over. "Unsurprising, I suppose." Azrael stayed still, keeping herself from moving closer to him. From doing what she actually wanted to do which was to hold him. To heal him. To make things right again.

She wasn't sure if Father had really wanted the others to hurt him like this, but it was a small penance for the blood he had shed. Not that her swords were clean of human blood. Or angel blood for that matter. Azrael was known for being brutal and often the other angels wondered why Michael spent any time with her at all.

Supposedly, Father loved them all, as he loved the humans. But the hierarchy was sometimes cumbersome among the angels. Azrael and the other archangels were His soldiers and often had to do things that didn't always make sense to them.

But the Flood had been Michael's rampage. That anger and carnal satisfaction was something Azrael understood. It was an outlet for all the frustration that came with their Order in things. It was a weakness that she kept in check, but Michael had never been tested in that regard. Until now.

And here he was, bloodied and broken. At the hands of his own siblings. And it caused an ache in her chest. The momentary relief she had in finding him was brief when she saw his feverish form.

It had taken her a while to find him, to get answers as to what had happened. She knew something was wrong because she couldn't sense him anymore, which happened often when angels descended upon the World. As if something disconnected them. It must be what humans felt. It was blinding and lonely.

"I failed him. I didn't see what he was asking for…" he whispered, turning his face away from her. He had never cried in front of her before and he didn't want to now.

Maybe he'd been in this World for too long or perhaps the fever had taken its toll. He felt every emotion and it was disconcerting. These strange things that rumbled through his chest, something he had no control over, making him want to cry for days or lash out and beat the life out of someone. He covered his swollen face with his hand and tried to rein himself in.

And then he felt her presence as she kneeled down next to him. Azrael gently took his hand and pulled it way from his face, revealing to her the swelling and bruising that covered it. As she gently smoothed the hair back from his tired face, he hissed at the momentary pain but he didn't move away from her.

"I killed them all. I…lost myself…," he whispered, his one eye looking at her with raw anguish.

"Oh, Michael." She whispered, feeling for him. Carefully, she cradled his face with her hand. He closed his eye again, basking in her attention and relaxing into it. For a moment, her true concerned self showed on her usually stoic face.

"What have you done, Michael?"


	3. The Return

Sitting still against the cinder block, Michael stared up at the figure darkening his windowsill. The crisp Seattle air blew in, filling the room with a light chill. There was a mixture of both relief and sadness that fell over Michael. He had wondered if maybe Azrael was dead, lost to him completely. Or perhaps the World had finally gotten the better of her. It had been so many years since he had last seen her. Since he had last embraced her.

And now she stood in front of him, wearing a soldier's uniform. Her dark hair blew about in the breeze and her unflinching glower made her eyes seem even brighter than usual. Along with the standard-issue Kevlar and guns in holsters, she also had her two short swords sheathed and strapped to her lower back. The uniform looked similar to the Archangel Corps uniform, except that it was black with red accents and a strange red sigil on the front of her vest. Azrael looked well rested and strong as usual.

She jumped down from the windowsill and stood not far from him, glaring down at him with a palpable fierceness. "Where is the Chosen One, Michael?"

Michael picked up the bottle of bourbon and took another swig. "Why don't you ask Gabriel."

Azrael moved quickly, quicker than Michael had expected, as she knocked the bottle from his hands and yanked him to his feet. "What are you doing? Wake up! Everything is falling to pieces!" she yelled in his face, hoping to break his stupor.

He stumbled back for a moment, dazed. But she succeeded in waking his anger again, zapping some life into his exhausted limbs. Michael growled at her, "And how would you know, Azrael? Where have you been all this time?" And then he gestured at her uniform and spat out, "Playing soldier in New Delphi?"

"I have been trying to do what you asked me to do. Keeping the peace, moving pieces into place, playing chess. Uriel has been doing the same!" she responded, loudly.

Michael's expression went blank as he stared at her. His still-drunken body swayed slightly as he quietly asked, "What do you mean? About Uriel?"

"You didn't know? She's been in Helena. She's been playing sides. Even speaking with Gabriel. Who knows what game she is playing now, except that she must not be trusted. Only to serve herself as usual."

"But she…"

Azrael sighed. "They're your siblings. They are treacherous and you know it."

Frustrated, Michael balled his fists and yelled, "I KNOW THAT!"

His outburst didn't faze the other archangel. Her expression didn't change. She didn't even flinch when he stepped closer to her and grabbed her by the upper arms. And then he slammed her against the nearby wall, pinning her against it with his hands still on her. She didn't seem to stop him nor make any defensive actions as she glared back at him and let him rage, hoping she wouldn't have to resort to putting him in his place.

His face was close to hers as he harshly said, "And I am just as treacherous as they are. I'm a monster."

Azrael shifted ever so slightly causing him to look down the length of his own body only to find that she had a small curved blade pressed against his leg where his femoral artery would be.

Quietly, almost hissing, she countered, "If you're a monster, then I am too."

Looking into her face again, Michael spoke in a clipped tone. "Father always turned a blind eye to your way of doing things."

"He needed me to do the things I had to do as much as he needed you to enforce them."

Michael moved even closer to her, despite the blade digging sharply into him. His body leaned heavily into hers, his breath warm against her as he spoke into her ear, "Why did you leave me? I could have used your help in Vega."

"You had Noma. You were fine." Azrael said, evenly without emotion. "And I didn't leave. You left me, remember? To take care of the Chosen One."

Exasperated, Michael gently rested his forehead against hers momentarily, his eyes closed. "I've missed you."

They stood still for the moment as Michael's emotions threatened to tear him apart. The fury that tightened his chest was at war with his need to pull her close. He knew that he had asked her not to reveal herself to the humans, to go to Helena, to play a part. How she ended up in New Delphi as a soldier was beyond him. What had happened to her all this time? And if she knew so much, why hadn't she reached out to him during all these years? He had long since lost track of her, worried about Alex and Vega. And Gabriel's nonsense.

"I didn't leave you, Azrael," he whispered, pained.

"I know."

"The Chosen One needed to be cared for."

She sighed, and then whispered, "And I thought I lost you. Again."

Michael opened his eyes and studied her for a moment. "And yet you found me. Somehow. Now. After all this time."

"I searched for you. No one knew where you had gone. After…" Azrael explained, breaking off only because she didn't know how else to explain her own fears.

The tall angel stared at her in that unnerving, unblinking way of his and then he abruptly yanked the curved blade from her hand and viciously threw it to the floor, his anger winning out. Spinning her around to face the wall, he shoved her against it and pinned her there as he roughly pulled her weapons from their holsters and sheaths and chucked them carelessly at the floor.

He unloaded, angrily, "But you come here as if you're going to WAR, Azrael!"

In his tirade, she hadn't made a move, but her own ire had been woken now. Enough! she thought as she threw back an elbow and was glad that it connected. Michael stumbled only for a moment, just enough time for Azrael to turn and defend herself. Only to have her Kevlar vest unceremoniously yanked off by an enraged Michael, leaving her with only her black shirt with red sigil across the chest.

Michael's fury had taken a deeper hold as he grabbed her roughly by the neck and leaned into her again, squeezing it and almost shaking her like a doll. His face was very close to hers, almost kissing distance, as he fiercely spat out, "And yet… what?" He searched her eyes, hoping to find something else. "You've come here now for what reason? You come here for war, Azrael?"

Azrael's panicked expression met his momentarily and then it was gone. She stilled, all the tension purposefully draining out of her. She didn't squirm or move, nor did she pull at his hand squeezing her neck; only her face betrayed some concern as she said quietly, "I heard about House Thorn. About what they were doing in Vega. Doing to our kind, Michael."

His eyes immediately closed tightly as the image of Becca's dead body flickered past and he felt suddenly overwhelmed by the grief of it all. The anger in him suddenly drained out and he came to himself again. Roughly letting go of Azrael, he stepped back and stumbled for a moment, standing in front of her, trying to regain some composure.

Azrael continued, "I was worried. For you."

Michael looked at her with such despair that it reminded her of all those years ago. Just like after the Flood when he was so distraught by what he had done. Azrael wanted to hold him then, as she did now.

He stumbled backwards a little more and then sat on the bed. "Who told you?"

"Does it matter?"

"So you thought I would slaughter all of Vega?" Michael stated, coldly and detached.

"No. I thought you were…" Azrael lost her voice just thinking about it. It had made her feel ill when she had heard about what they were doing in House Thorn. All she could think about was Michael and the possibilities of him being hurt or killed.

Michael looked stricken. "Experimented on, like Louis?"

Azrael cautiously moved closer to him. "I came here because I was frightened that I had lost you. That I may never see you again. Because we can sense each other no longer, I could not tell if you were…gone."

Standing in front of him, she stopped just shy of his legs, causing him to look up at her. The blank look that he gave her changed after a moment as she finally gave him a small smile, her own features softening.

"I've missed you too, Michael," she said as she gently touched his cheek and then cupped his face. He leaned into her hand for a moment, remembering her touch, remembering their friendship from so long ago, and remembering her kindness back then. Then he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him, leaning his head against her torso.

She ran her fingers through his tousled hair as he closed his eyes and gave into a moment of comfort.


	4. Broken

The wind howled outside as sand blew past their tent. It was a small sand storm that had fallen upon them with an abruptness that was disconcerting. Azrael had secured the tent flap as best as she could to keep the wind from swirling even more sand inside.

Michael coughed in pain and finally stilled, exhausted by the emotional and physical toll. Azrael remained seated next to him, looking at him with love and concern. It was strange for him to see that expressed so openly on her face, but he enjoyed it as much as he could in his state. It was the most raw emotion that he had ever seen in her and it was all for him.

Her eyes were unusually watery with unshed tears. She tried not to chastise herself for allowing him to see her true emotions. She had hidden them away for far too long. "I thought you were gone. Lost to me." She said quietly. "I can't…I could not bear the idea that you…" Her voice trailed off as she tried to remain calm.

Staring at her, he didn't flinch as she again gently touched his face. She looked him over, not bothering to wipe the few stray tears that now fell down her cheek. "Your body, Michael…you must be in so much pain…"

He stared at her, his breathing ragged.

"You need help, Michael. You need Healing. The fever must be broken." She lightly squeezed his arm and then started to move away from him.

Before she could move too far, Michael grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him. "Please don't leave me." He whispered, unease in his tone.

She rubbed his arm gently and reassured, "I'm not leaving. But you need to be healed."

"No, he doesn't." A voice said from behind her. "He deserves this."

Azrael turned to find Gabriel in full armor stepping into the tent, a sword in his hand, ready for anything. The howling from the wind had masked the arrival of their intruder. She stood up immediately, her own two swords already in hand.

Michael groaned, trying to sit up. His wings flopped like dead creatures clinging to his back.

"Have you come on Father's orders?" Azrael asked, her ferociousness back in place.

Gabriel sneered at her. "I have come to see how my brother fares. No surprise that you're here too, Azrael." He didn't put away his sword, however, but stepped closer to Michael who kept his gaze trained on Gabriel.

"Stand back, Gabriel." Azrael warned. "You've done enough."

"He needed to be stopped, Azrael." Gabriel told her sternly, careful not to get too close to her.

"And you've done so. Now leave him be." She said in a monotone frightening voice. She was known to be the most ruthless of the archangels and even Gabriel gave pause.

"He is my brother," Gabriel said with a chilly tone, stepping closer to her, to show that he had no fear of her. She didn't seem fazed.

"And you've done enough." She placed herself between Gabriel and Michael, hoping to head off any further assault. It was possible Gabriel had some concern, but she didn't trust him to stay his place.

Gabriel looked past her and at Michael who gave up trying to sit up and lay there pathetically. He still looked at Gabriel with animosity and that made Gabriel feel a little better. Gabriel knew that Uriel had been right, that pain was the lesson that Michael needed to learn in order to understand what he had done. And it was the only way to stop someone so strong and hell-bent on bloodshed. But afterwards, the two of them had wondered if perhaps it had been too much. There had been a little bit of regret and guilt on their part. Michael was still their brother. Still one of them. Leaving him to suffer on this World felt improper.

"He needs to be healed, Azrael." He said with less ferocity and more reasoning.

"Clearly," she responded, angrily. "But you will not be the one to heal him. Leave. Now."

Gabriel kept his sword down, not willing to come to blows with her. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't sure he would win against her. So he reluctantly acquiesced. His guilt was mildly assuaged as he glanced back before leaving the tent. He looked at Azrael still guarding his brother by moving to block his view of him. Gabriel often wondered what those two had together that always made her so protective of him. "Take care of him. He was not always as brutal as you are. Don't allow him to stay that way."

She didn't respond, watching him as he slipped through the flap and disappeared outside. The wind was slowly dying down and Azrael could hear Gabriel's wings as they took him away from their meager sanctuary. It slowly became quiet outside and the only sound she could hear was Michael's labored breathing.

Brutality was rarely something she shied away from. It was part of her "chores" as Michael liked to call them. Perhaps God had made her that way on purpose, capable of doling out what He needed doling out. But for Gabriel to look at her with such disdain…it ruffled her feathers in an unpleasant way. As if she had caused Michael's slaughter of the humans. As if perhaps she was to blame for his delight in the carnage?

Michael coughed and then groaned, curling in on himself. "I did deserve it, Azrael. The blood and violence… it was…intoxicating. I couldn't stop myself."

She continued to stand there with her swords drawn, thinking. If she hadn't been dealing with the lower angels, would she have been able to keep Michael in line? She loathed thinking that she would have been pitted against him. Then again, perhaps He knew this and that's why she was asked to take care of the lower angels? Why not send the Powers? It had seemed a little odd at the time, but she followed His orders often without questioning them. However, the Powers could have easily done the task that she was given. Her particular abilities were not truly needed at that time. Unless…

"It was a test for both of us," she said quietly, more to herself. She put her swords away as she turned back to him.

Michael slurred, almost incoherently, "I failed the test…"

Kneeling down again, Azrael tried to calm him by touching his hand. He seemed to slip away into a feverish dream, body slightly twitching in response to whatever he was seeing. She sighed, wondering how long he would need to be fully recovered.

The wounds on Michael's torso, legs and wings were festering and infected at this point and haven't healed. That Gabriel and Uriel would use their swords on him at all showed the gravity of the situation. It made her furious and had Michael not been in the tent with them, Azrael would have given Gabriel a taste of his own medicine.

She leaned over and stroked Michael's cheek for a second. He was not doing well. Sitting back from him, one of her wings emerged and Azrael carefully pulled out a small navy blue feather from the inner edges. Quietly, she stood up and left the tent in search of an open flame.

As she opened the tent flap, Michael opened his eye and watched her in his feverish haze. The brightness that fell over him also surrounded Azrael and softened her features, blurring the edges around her body, as if she had a white aura. He couldn't help but be reminded of Home with all that light swirling about her. She paused just outside the tent, arm still holding the flap open, with concern etched on her face as she looked at him. It was then that he realized how much he loved her. How much he was grateful for her presence.

And how much he had also failed her.


	5. Howling

The cold bit into the side of the sheer mountain cliffs as tufts of white blanketed the world around it. The wind was howling and shifting the drifts of snow, making it hard to see much of anything in the distance.

Alex Lannon stood on the ledge just outside the opening to Gabriel's domain. The fur trim on his jacket kept fluttering up and tickling his chin. It reminded him of a moment when he was a child. It was a moment when Michael was actually comforting to him; something that didn't happen often while Alex was growing up.

It had been winter in Vega and he was about twelve years old. There was a cold snap and Alex had been shivering uncontrollably outside of one of the shelters in the main square, waiting in line for his next meal. He didn't know where the archangel came from, or how he had even seen him in the throng of shivering people, but suddenly Michael was standing in front of him with a warm jacket and new shoes. As per usual, the archangel's expression was hard to read and his gaze was unblinking and all encompassing. Alex could barely look up at the tall imposing figure, let alone reach out and take the clothing.

Somehow Michael understood that and after a moment, he kneeled down and gently helped the boy, his own expression softer than usual. Alex was in awe of the angel, staring at him, studying the angel's face with his mouth slightly agape. He didn't quite understand why the almighty archangel of Vega was paying him any notice at the moment. It wasn't the first time he'd encountered him of course as Michael had always somehow been in his life over the years, but Alex didn't understand why or for what purpose. The fur trim on that warm jacket tickled his chin as Michael had zipped it up. Alex remembered how Michael had paused and looked at him with a serene smile on his face. It changed the angel's whole demeanor and it made Alex feel special for once. Almost as if he were loved and cared for.

And then the angel stood up, breaking the moment. Alex remembered staring up at him and trying to mumble, "Thank you," but instead botched it, stammering as Michael's face was stoic once more, turning to eye their surroundings. Looking back down at him, Michael coolly instructed, "You must sleep inside tonight. If you cannot find shelter, come to the Archangel Corps. You'll be sorted out. Tell them I sent you." The look on his face was of concern and sternness. It seemed strange at the time. Now, of course, Alex knew better. Michael was only taking care of his precious Chosen One. Of his potential redemption.

Alex squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, listening to the howling that the wind was making around him. It was whipping through his hair and making him feel alive again, something that had been lacking for the past few weeks. The memory of Michael and his fury in the House Thorn lab surfaced once more, definitely not for the first time since Alex made his journey to Gabriel's aerie. The expression on Michael's face as he woke from his rage was ingrained in Alex's mind. Every time he remembered that look, it was gut wrenching. Alex would suddenly feel ill and often had to take a moment to compose himself. After all that the angel had taught him, it had boiled down to that moment. And it had hurt.

Where was Michael now? Alex had wondered where he had flown off to. He didn't really know how to contact him or what to do next. Standing in that lab with broken and dead bodies and poor Louis… Alex shuddered for a moment. It could have been Michael. Becca Thorn could have done that to Michael.

Alex opened his eyes and took a deep breath of the cold air.

"Planning your escape, are you, Chosen One?" Gabriel's voice seemed to creep over him like the cold wind. Alex hadn't noticed his presence, but he would bet that the archangel had probably been standing in the entrance way for a while, keeping tabs on his new protégé.

Turning to the angel, Alex plastered a small smile on his face and tried to remember to be placating. "Of course not. Where would I go anyway?"

Gabriel studied him for a moment, leaning against the nearby stone wall, his arms crossed. "At this point, without wings, it would be suicide." He motioned to the swirling snow and lack of visibility.

Alex nodded at him and strode past him, back through the entrance. "And we wouldn't want that, would we?" he said, in a rather sarcastic tone.

Gabriel actually laughed and turned to follow him, clapping him on the back. "Oh, Alex. You're quite amusing when you want to be, aren't you? Why don't we go see what Furiad has for us today, hmm?"

Alex tried not to cringe when Gabriel touched him. It took a lot of effort to always pretend to be amiable and excited by whatever new "adventure" Gabriel came up with. He knew that the angel was probably testing him to see how far his new allegiance would go.

Damn it, Michael. You were right. Alex thought, chastising himself again for coming all this way and staying here. If Noma wasn't still under Gabriel's control and Alex could find some way to walk away from this gilded cage, he would already be across the country by now. Unfortunately, this plan, which they had come up with before Michael had lost himself, was a long shot. At first, Noma had given him an ear-full for even contemplating this plan at all.

Originally, Noma would go to Gabriel and make him understand that Alex had turned against Michael, that he would be open to Gabriel's influence. And then Alex would eventually go to Gabriel to offer his allegiance, and learn as much as possible about the tattoos, perhaps even what he was meant to do as the "Chosen One" and why Gabriel was so set on Alex joining him in the first place. But Michael had warned him, sternly, that Gabriel would use every manipulative tactic possible to get Alex to do what he wants. They hadn't quite finished the plan before Michael actually did do something that made Alex rethink his allegiance to the archangel.

As he walked alongside Gabriel, Alex couldn't help but rub his chest for a moment. It felt like something heavy was sitting on it, as it usually did when he started thinking about Michael and everything they had gone through. Although Alex sometimes had trouble understanding the archangel and his tactics, he had still always respected him. He was a father figure to him, despite all the tough love and harshness over the years. The tears Michael had shed in his childhood home were genuine and Alex knew that the angel had lost complete control of himself when he saw one of his own kind tortured in the manner that Louis had been.

Alex had to believe that wherever Michael was, he was remorseful and probably trying to come up with another plan for redemption. He had to believe that the Michael he knew was still somewhere out there. Looking over him from afar, planning to intervene when it was most needed. He had to believe that.

"New Delphi has been organizing, Gabriel." Furiad's voice broke Alex's pensiveness.

They stood by a beautifully crafted long dining table with Gabriel now lounging in an oversized ornate dining chair with one of his legs over the armrest. He was crunching into an apple and staring at Furiad who stood rigidly nearby, hand on a large colorful map laid out on the table. Gabriel hadn't been all that forthcoming with his plan for New Delphi, but he had been sending angels to scope out their resistance capabilities. It was clear he had at least three angels already inside the settlement, hidden among the humans.

"Organizing how?" Alex asked. New Delphi was still a mystery to him. He had lived in Vega his entire life and Gabriel's aerie was the furthest he had traveled. He had heard rumors of the chaos and the outlaw life that New Delphi had to offer, but he had no clue as to how it actually was there.

Furiad glanced at the Chosen One. The young human irritated the angel. He wasn't sure if it was because of Noma's connection to him or that he was a human who had so much sway over all of their actions. What was so special about this mortal vessel? His stoic face stared coldly at him for a moment and then looked again to Gabriel, ignoring the question.

Gabriel couldn't help but chuckle at Furiad's reaction, but he needed the angel to cooperate. "Answer the question, Furiad."

Alex tried not to sigh loudly. It was clear that most of the angels didn't want to have anything to do with him. Noma was the only smiling face that he had seen in the last few weeks. Well, other than Gabriel's unnerving grin.

"They have soldiers. They will no longer be lawless at this rate. Someone has taken hold as a leader."

"Soldiers? Really?" Alex asked, shifting closer to the table and the map.

Gabriel munched on his apple, watching both of them as he thought. It was clear the archangel was debating something. Or perhaps plotting his next step. "And the leader? Is it who we think it is?"

"Unconfirmed." Furiad kept an eye on Alex as the human got closer to the map. The map was of North America and had several markings across the continent. Vega was clearly marked, as was Helena to the south. At the top northwest part of the continent, further inland rather than on the coast like Helena, was another scribbling, clearly denoting where New Delphi was established.

"So what? All of a sudden an army of soldiers invaded and took over? Or one of the crew bosses got stronger and recruited some of their outlaw friends to be part of a new army?" Alex asked, pulling the map closer, noticing Furiad tensing, clearly not happy that he had touched his precious map. Crew bosses were supposedly vicious leaders that were in charge of criminal syndicates. They seemed to be the ruling class of New Delphi and most citizens supposedly kept to their smaller chaotic ventures, trying hard not to piss off the crew bosses.

Gabriel shifted his leg down, sitting normally in the chair as he finished chewing his apple and then chucked the core over his shoulder onto the floor. An 8-ball scurried into the room and picked it up, then quickly disappeared out through another doorway across the room. No one acknowledge the 8-ball's presence. Although now used to the strange way that Gabriel's loyal 8-balls acted like servants, Alex still bristled at the way they shuffled and moved out of fear around the archangel and himself.

"I need to know if it is true, Furiad. I need to know if our plan will be thwarted by him." Gabriel said, frustrated.

"Who?" Alex asked, looking up at them.

Furiad didn't move, but Alex could tell there was a shift in his already agitated mood. He didn't know if Furiad really was loyal to Gabriel, or if he just threw his lot in with him because he wanted to be rid of humans. "You haven't told him, Gabriel?"

Gabriel gave him an exasperated look. "Does the Chosen One really need to know everything?"

"Hey! I'm standing right here. What are you not telling me?" Alex asked, sternly. Something shifted on his arm and he knew immediately that it was the tattoos. They did that occasionally, especially since he came to Gabriel's. They seemed to be trying to tell him something, but unfortunately, he was never alone long enough to look at them. And he was not about to let Gabriel know that they were communicating with him. The archangel was already too interested in them, constantly trying to get Alex to slip up and spill more information than he intended.

Gabriel stood up and stretched in a feigned lazy way. "Oh, it doesn't really matter to you anymore, Alex."

Alex tried to puzzle out what he was insinuating as Gabriel stepped closer to Furiad. The other angel looked like he wanted to step away from him, keeping his eyes trained on Gabriel.

"Furiad, confirm it and report back to me." Gabriel shoved Furiad roughly in the chest. "Don't come back until you know for sure."

The red-armored angel immediately disappeared out of the room, not hesitating to put as much distance as possible between himself and the archangel.

"Who is in New Delphi, Gabriel?" Alex asked, pointedly.

Gabriel studied Alex for a moment and then a grin spread across his face. He had a glint in his eye and it was clear that something malicious was on his mind.

"Really shouldn't matter who it is, Chosen One. You're here to hone your skills and do as you're told."

Alex stared at him. "Is that what I'm doing here? Because you haven't told me anything I didn't know already. You haven't 'taught' me anything new! I'd be better off with Michael at this point!"

Gabriel visibly bristled at his brother's name, which was exactly what Alex was going for. He retorted in anger, "Michael is useless! You have no idea what he's done, his inabilities… you want to go back to that? His motivations are not as pure as you once thought! But you know that, otherwise you wouldn't be here!"

"Why are you so focused on New Delphi? What the hell do you want with me?" Alex yelled, losing his ability to control himself. The tattoos were moving rapidly, making his skin crawl. It pissed him off because all he wanted to do was take his shirt off and see what they would tell him. Maybe they'd give him something that would finally help him. Or at least point him in the correct direction. This feeling of being lost was driving him crazy.

Gabriel crossed the few steps to Alex and roughly grabbed him by the neck, squeezing just enough to get his point across. His own blood rage was hard to keep in check sometimes, and he had to remind himself to be careful with the Chosen One. With anger distorting his face, he growled, "Hell? What do you know of hell? When the slaughter starts again, Alex, you will understand exactly what hell is."

Alex's heart was beating so hard, he thought it might actually burst from his chest and fall onto the floor. The idea of that was so absurd that he had the urge to smile.

And then it dawned on him that that was exactly what he should do. Unhinged. It was exactly what Gabriel would not expect. And so he started laughing.

Gabriel looked confused for a moment, defusing his own anger. "You think that is funny, Chosen One?"

And Alex laughed even harder, making him seem even more deranged. He choked out, "You have know idea…about anything, do you?" Alex reveled for a moment at the archangel's strange expression.

It confused and then infuriated the archangel for a moment, causing Gabriel to tighten his hold on his neck, strangling the laughter right out of Alex. "It won't be so funny when the Flood starts again. You are still human, despite the message from Father written all over you. You think you're immune?"

Alex was having a hard time breathing so he hit Gabriel uselessly in the chest, hoping he would let go of him finally. It made the archangel grin at him again, reveling in the power that he had over Alex. Gabriel yanked him closer and harshly whispered to him in his ear, "You have no idea what is coming."

And then he slammed Alex to the floor, letting go of him at impact. Stunned, Alex tried to move away from the angel that was looming over him with that disturbing grin of his. Coughing and gasping for air, Alex slowly regained control of himself as he sat up, shuffling backwards.

"It would be best for you to know your place, Alex. If you would only see things my way, then you wouldn't have to walk around here, pretending all the time. Do you really think I didn't know that you are not fully committed to our cause? I'm not blind, Alex." Gabriel put one hand on his hip and another hand waggling his finger at Alex as if he were a teacher chastising his student. "Your precious Noma…tisk tisk…be very careful what you do, Alex. Noma might regret your actions as much as her own."

Alex took a deep breath and scrambled to his feet, keeping his distance, smartly so.

"No words now, Chosen One?" Gabriel inquired.

Sighing, Alex shook his head.

"Besides, would you really want to be in New Delphi? It's full of criminals. Distasteful." Gabriel said, almost seriously, and then he smiled, that mischievous glint back in his eyes.

"Why? Were you planning to send me to New Delphi?" Alex asked, fishing.

"You did say you were thinking about returning to Michael's tutelage," Gabriel said as he walked to the nearby doorway that the 8-ball had previously scurried through.

"What do you mean?" Alex asked, confused. "Is Michael in New Delphi?"

"Let me know when Furiad returns." Gabriel said over his shoulder as he left the room.


	6. Restless Night

Night had fallen, and the wind had died down somewhat. Yet the hallways and cavernous rooms still held a chill from the frigid air outside. There was no way to truly know the time in the windowless room that Noma was staying in. Neither windows nor clocks decorated the small space that was carved out of rock inside Gabriel's aerie.

On a queen-sized bed shoved up against the cavern wall, Noma lay huddled under a few blankets, shivering slightly. Her back faced the entrance to her room, as she no longer cared if someone were to creep up on her and kill her in her sleep. She was exhausted and numb after many weeks of being stuck inside. And she wondered what the point was really. She hadn't always been a fighter, a skill more born out of necessity than any desire to do so; being taunted and threatened constantly was taking its toll on her.

Lying there with her eyes closed, Noma tried to picture herself flying again, among the clouds and in the fresh air. A spark of frustration shot through her and she turned onto her back to stare up at the ceiling. The rock's jagged edges had most likely been smoothed and worn down by water and time. She liked to trace the fissures in the rock with her eyes as she counted them. It was oddly relaxing and kept her mind from straying to memories. Memories that only led to more thinking. Thinking about Michael. Thinking about Alex.

One such memory seemed to keep resurfacing lately. Probably because of all of Alex's questions, she thought, once again turning to the wall and squeezing her eyes shut.

After Gabriel started slaughtering humans and the war against them began, Noma had decided to stay neutral and stayed away from the onslaught. She had no quarrel with His creatures and would rather have peace and harmony if possible. It wasn't surprising to her that the lower angels went to the World to take human form; they had held a grudge against the humans as well as the higher angels for a long time. It was their chance to finally do as they pleased, without Father scolding them by sending Michael or Azrael or even the Powers to quell them, without any retribution for their behavior. They took everything to an extreme, as they were wont to do. Gabriel encouraged it and they willingly followed his lead.

So Noma stayed away, despite Michael asking her to help him. He understood her decision and didn't force her to descend with him. She had always had a soft spot for Michael and he seemed to have one for her as well. He had been a friend to her for many years, but never in a romantic way, more so as an older brother's love for his younger sibling. She had been a good soldier for him in the past, doing as he asked, but this time, she had made it clear she would not descend to the World to take on Gabriel's rage. As usual, Michael had Azrael as his partner in these matters, even if Azrael was only going begrudgingly, probably more out of loyalty to him than any other reason. Azrael didn't share Michael's love for the humans. Noma wasn't really sure what Azrael cared about, if anything at all.

Gabriel's change in demeanor wasn't exactly a surprise to most of the higher angels. He had been grumbling and listening to Lucifer long before the fallen angel had left Home. But for Gabriel to take such brutal actions as soon as Father disappeared, it seemed almost calculated. Gabriel's actions were traumatizing to most of the angels, especially with the aftermath of Him disappearing. So many felt lost and didn't want to get involved, but the threat of their Home slowly decaying and ceasing to exist made for a compelling argument; eventually all of them would have to descend down to the World in order to survive, so why not cleanse it of the creatures who were destroying it? If He didn't return soon, all of them would eventually have to join the humans in the World. For better or worse.

Noma wrapped her arm around her torso and burrowed further under the blanket. She missed Home. It was beautiful and filled with light and warmth. And the feeling of the other angels, always knowing who was who, all connected…it was an indescribable feeling and she missed it so.

And then the light had started to fade. And Noma had watched as Michael fought the lower angels as well as the humans who didn't trust him at first. He had been searching for someone or something as he tried to defend as many of the humans as he could. Azrael was then on a warpath, destroying any 8-balls on sight. She too searched for something and Noma didn't know what or who; she wasn't privy to the information as she stayed in their Home, waiting and hoping that all of them would come to their senses. That He would return.

But then the war had really gotten out of hand and she missed the angels who had left Home. She missed Michael. He was her family, despite how his real siblings had treated her. Uriel and Gabriel were not fond of Noma for some reason. So Noma decided then that perhaps it was time to assist, to be by his side.

One afternoon, Noma had descended onto the World, finding Michael and Azrael in the middle of nowhere, standing outside of an old house. They were having a heated argument and it was the first time that Noma had ever seen Michael raise his voice to Azrael. The two of them were very close and often the other angels wondered if they were more than just mere comrades.

Michael's voice echoed in Noma's memory. "I have to do this, Azrael! This is for all of us!" His angry pained expression was clear at the time as he faced the formidable archangel. Azrael was wielding her infamous short swords and staring at him coldly. The look of shock at his outburst had long since fallen off of her face and disappeared behind her stoic mask.

Noma shuddered thinking about Azrael and her cold detached demeanor. She was one of the higher angels that Noma usually avoided. It was better to avoid Azrael altogether if possible. As most angels would avoid her, Michael was really Azrael's only true companion.

The two had stood there in a locked glare for a moment before Noma made her presence known. Michael turned to Noma with the same angry expression on his face, and it gave Noma pause.

Her wings were out and ruffled in the breeze that passed by them. She never liked putting them away while at Home, but down on the World they seemed to shift and move a little differently. It was easier to deal with her surroundings when they were tucked inside, so a moment later they were collapsed and gone. Noma remembered looking at the two archangels and noticing how different they looked in their modern human garb. They no longer wore armor as the archangels usually did, or even what Noma was wearing at the time, which was something that would surely make her stand out among the humans. She had worn a tunic and an odd type of pleated skirt, and a small sword hung at her waist.

Michael had shifted and then stood a little taller as his hands grazed the hilts of his swords. He had not pulled them out against Azrael, despite his anger, but Noma's presence seemed to have reminded him of where he was. His expression softened in that moment. "Noma," he paused. "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to aid you, Michael," she had said, hesitantly, and then glanced at Azrael, who stayed frozen in place and still focused on Michael. "It looks like you might need it, that is."

Michael shifted his jacket a little, glancing at Azrael who still hadn't put her swords away. "We were only having a…discussion."

"We have no use for you here, Noma." Azrael had said, coldly, without looking at her as she shifted back a few more steps and slowly put her blades away. "It's clear that Michael will do as he pleases. Despite reason."

Noma remembered how Michael gave Azrael an exasperated look. "You know that he is the key to all of this, Azrael."

"I don't know anything. And neither do you." Azrael glared at him.

Something crashed inside the house behind them and a stream of curses could then be heard through the door. A moment later, a baby begun crying loudly.

Michael immediately ran to the house at that time and without hesitation slammed open the door, disappearing inside.

Azrael sighed and then followed with Noma not far behind.

The image of a man slowly standing up in the middle of a debris-strewn living room was still clear to Noma. He was rubbing his knee as Azrael picked up a nearby overturned chair and set it next to him. The man sat down carefully, looking disheveled as Michael walked into the room, carrying a small baby in his arm. The child had stopped crying and was staring up at the angel.

"Are you all right, Jeep?" Michael inquired of the man.

"I'm fine. I just tripped over this…mess," Jeep responded, still rubbing his arm. The man looked like he hadn't slept in days. Absently rubbing his arm, Jeep pulled up his sleeve. Noma noticed then the scrawling tattoos decorating his arm. Something about them seemed oddly familiar to her at the time and then it had dawned on her that they looked like the ones that Michael had on his body before he left Home.

She recalled watching as Michael smiled contently down at the baby. It was a genuinely warm smile and not something that Noma had seen in a long time. What was so unique about this child? she had thought. Jeep then stood up and reached for the baby and Noma could see Michael hesitate for a moment before handing him over.

Jeep cooed down at the baby with the beaming love of a father. Noma could tell it had affected Michael as he watched the pair. Meanwhile, Azrael had remained standing further away, clearly contemplating the scene.

"You can't come running every time something breaks, Michael," Jeep said, quietly to the angel. He hadn't seemed hesitant to tell the angel what he thought.

"As I've told you before, I will not leave you unprotected." Michael stood still, having clasped his hands behind his back in that soldier stance that he often adopted.

"You can't always protect us." Jeep responded, fierily.

"No, he can't." Azrael chimed in from across the room.

Michael stayed still, unblinking.

"Are you sure, Michael? That he is…that these are…" Jeep looked at his exposed arm. "That these are from…Him? What if my boy isn't who you think he is?"

Michael nodded with confidence. "He had the Radiance when I found him in her arms."

Jeep cringed visibly at the mention of the child's dead mother who had tried to protect the boy.

Surprised by the exchange, Noma spoke up, "The Chosen One?"

They turned to look at her, as if suddenly remembering that she was there. Azrael shifted to her right, as if she had heard a noise suddenly.

"We are not alone." Azrael had pulled her two swords out immediately and Michael did the same.

"Noma, protect them," Michael commanded and then immediately hurried after Azrael who had went for the door, leaving Noma to stand between whatever foe was outside and the shaking man holding his child.

Recalling such moments, Noma shifted in her bed once more, shivering again, only now not from the cold, but from the images of her past. She recalled a frightened Jeep who held the crying Chosen One in his tattooed arms. The clear image of them was still engrained in her mind. That expression of pure fear on Jeep's face and the sound of the baby as he started to cry once again.

It was the first time she had ever laid eyes on Alex Lannon.

And it was the first of many times that she decided to protect him. Protect him from the 8-balls, from the world, from himself…

…from the angry higher angels.


	7. Night in the Aerie

Still unable to fall asleep, Noma stared at the rock wall in front of her. It frustrated her that she had too much time on her hands. Too much time to think. "Damn it," she hissed at herself, rubbing her eyes and squeezing them shut again.

She knew that Michael had entrusted her with Alex's safety time and time again as well as other humans that he was trying to protect. And she had willingly been a part of their plan, even when she was sent away to deal with 8-balls out in the Cradle while Vega and the other settlements were still being established. Noma was willing to follow Michael's orders because there was something different about the child, something that may hold the key to His return.

When Noma returned years later at Michael's request, she hadn't realized how much Alex had grown into a young man. It became clear how much she would be involved in his daily life, posing as a soldier in Archangel Corps. So often, she had wanted to tell him who he really was and even who she really was. And then when she started to have those…emotions for him, she knew she had to pull away.

Michael had seen the change in her, and had warned her sternly. "Remember your purpose, Noma," Michael had said to her, with that serious glint in his eyes.

And yet, she couldn't stop loving Alex. Even when she knew he was in love with someone else. It was a strange feeling that warmed her chest whenever she saw him. Noma didn't quite understand it. The attachment and sense of protection that she felt towards him. She had tried to distance herself, but he needed her and she knew it. And so did Michael. And then Louis, possessed by Gabriel, pushed her out of Michael's window and she flew for the first time in years. It had been exhilarating and at the same time heart-wrenching, knowing that Alex would probably look at her differently after finding out who she really was after all that time.

And he did look at her differently. Painfully so.

That look of betrayal had only recently started to fade while they dealt with Gabriel in the aerie. While they tried to implement a fallible plan. Alex stayed close to her whenever possible and clearly didn't like it when they used her as leverage against him. She could tell by the look on his face. Noma knew she was a liability to him. That he would probably try to protect her at the cost of his own life. And although a small part of her felt touched by that thought, the other practical part knew that she was a detriment to him.

The door behind her opened with a small creak and then quickly shut. Noma froze at the sound, almost holding her breath, wondering who it could be. She hoped it wasn't Furiad.

"Noma?" Alex whispered behind her. "You awake?"

She relaxed and turned to him, giving him a smile as he slowly sat down on her bed and kicked off his shoes. Noma sat up and looked him over. He was still wearing that jacket of his and seemed agitated with that tense look on his face. It was the look he used to get when he was concentrating on an attack formation back at Archangel Corps headquarters in Vega.

She touched his arm without saying anything and he looked up at her and tried to give her a smile, but she could tell it didn't touch his eyes. She lifted the blankets for him and he didn't hesitate to move under them, lying down on his side with his back facing her. Soothingly, she ran her hand over his hair for a moment and then settled in behind him, putting her arm around his torso and holding him close to her body.

The room was cold and he seemed to be shivering despite their combined warmth and the jacket he wore. Noma remained silent, letting Alex relax for a moment. He was so tense that she knew dealing with Gabriel and Furiad was taking a toll on him.

"This isn't working, Noma." Alex said, quietly.

She rubbed his arm. "You mean being stuck in an aerie with an angry archangel? Believe me, I know."

Alex sighed and then pulled away, turning onto his back so he could look at her. "Michael was right. You were right. Gabriel is…" He huffed with frustration.

"What happened, Alex?" Noma gently touched his face.

"Do you think Michael would go to New Delphi?" Alex asked.

Surprised by his question, she moved back a little and propped her head up with her hand. Contemplating, she said, "It's possible. But that would be a strange move."

"What's there for him? What's there for Gabriel?"

After a moment, Noma said, "Man power. Larger population than Vega."

Alex stared up at the ceiling, musing, "So Vega has nuclear reactors, Helena has a bomber and some helicopters, and New Delphi has a large amount of…thieves? Doesn't track. Gabriel would gain more from taking Vega."

Noma knew he was fishing. She had been to New Delphi, of course, in the early days when it really was a cutthroat settlement. It slowly became more organized as time went by, but she hadn't been back there in a long time. "Michael could start a new Archangel Corps there, if he convinced the right crew bosses."

Alex scoffed, "Crew bosses aren't known for their cooperative nature."

Noma looked him over. "Gabriel's pushing for New Delphi?"

Alex groaned and then rubbed his face. "Yes. And he's making it sound like Michael is there, spearheading a resistance. It doesn't make sense. And I don't understand what Gabriel wants from me? Nothing he's told me has been useful."

Noma laid her head down and then reached a hand out to touch his chest. "And these…?"

Alex turned to her, studying her face for a moment. "They keep moving, Noma." He unzipped his jacket and took her hand so it rested directly on his chest. "Whenever Gabriel is around."

Noma nodded. "And you can't exactly pull your shirt off every time that happens."

"Especially around him. He is as bad as his sister with these things." Alex sighed, his hand still on hers, rubbing a thumb over it.

Noma was very aware of Alex's every touch and movement, and so glad for his company. When he first came to the aerie, he would barely sit near her. He was still angry and even more so that he was there, in Gabriel's reach. She could tell that he was also hurting, walking around with a pained expression on his face, trying desperately to fake a smile when speaking with Gabriel. He wasn't really fooling anyone, though. At least, not her. She knew him too well.

She had been both relieved to see him and upset by the news that he had given her about Michael, as well as the fact that Alex came to the aerie at all. She had hoped that he would stay away until it was absolutely necessary. But since Michael wasn't in the picture…

"You should have gone to New Delphi yourself, Alex." Noma blurted out, revisiting an old topic.

Anger flared up in Alex as he stared at her. He shoved her hand away and sat up, pulling away from her. "I'm not going over this again."

Noma sat up quickly as well, immediately regretting her words. "No, I know. It slipped out… I'm just worried. I'm worried all the time, Alex." She touched his shoulders and he leaned away from her touch, so she sat back and dejectedly stared at his jacket.

When he had arrived and Gabriel finally allowed him to see her, they had spent nights talking and planning. And arguing. Often. Mostly because Noma wanted him to leave and put distance between Gabriel and himself, and he did not. He wanted to glean as much as he could from Gabriel. Occasionally, he stayed with her at night, sleeping side-by-side or holding each other. It was comforting to her as well as him, but it was nothing else. Despite her hidden desire for more.

And here she was ruining what hard-won peace they had established. She knew it was difficult for him, dealing with Gabriel and the inexplicable nature of the tattoos, and she worried for him daily. She didn't care anymore about her own safety. She just wanted him to be somewhere else, where Gabriel couldn't get to him. Couldn't influence him. Where he could read the symbols in peace without any prying eyes.

Alex slumped a little as he ran his fingers through his hair. In a small voice, he asked, "Why would he go there and not tell us?"

Noma's heart clenched. She had been wondering the same thing. Why would Michael abandon them and start a new plan without them? She moved closer to him, tentatively touching him and then leaning her forehead against his back as she wrapped her arms around his torso. "I don't know," she said, quietly.

He didn't pull away, leaning back against her. "I just feel…" he sighed, at a loss for words.

"Lost," Noma whispered.

He didn't respond, and they sat there for a few moments in the silence.

And then he opened the rest of his jacket and pulled away from her, standing up. Noma pulled back as well, sitting against the wall, looking at him with a small sad smile.

"Leaving? Going to bed?" she asked, softly.

As if in response, he pulled his jacket off and threw it to the side. And then he pulled his shirt off, leaving him bare-chested with the tattoos exposed. He looked down at the ones that were now moving on his right pectoral muscle. They had started moving as soon as Noma touched him. He glanced at them and then up at Noma's expectant face. "They've been telling me the same thing for a few weeks now."

Noma didn't move. She wanted to encourage him to continue, but she didn't want to inadvertently push him to leave either. So she gave him space. And stayed still.

"They move when you touch me, Noma." He said to her, his expression softening. "It always reads, 'Greater love has no other than this.'"

Noma's heart felt like it might grow it's own set of wings. She didn't know what to make of his expression. He must already know how much she loved him. Noma had tried to keep it to herself, but he must have known all this time.

"When Gabriel is near, I have gotten a glimpse of this one from time to time," Alex said, pointing to his left forearm. "It always reads, 'love your enemies, keep them close.'"

"Just like when they told you not to trust those close to you? When Michael was nearby?"

Alex sighed. "Maybe I should have listened to them."

Noma shook her head, "You don't understand, Alex. Michael is not your enemy."

"I know that, Noma! Don't you think I know that?" Alex spat out, his shoulders tense again as he stared at her with his hands splayed out. His tormented expression was breaking her heart.

She didn't say anything more, her whole demeanor quiet and shut down. They had discussed Michael's departure at length before and have always ended up feeling worse for wear.

Alex shook his head with that pained look. He gazed at her and she could tell he wanted to say something else, but instead he sighed heavily.

And then he did something she hadn't expected. He crawled onto the bed to her and paused in front of her, cupping her face with his strong hands. "Greater love has no other than this," he whispered, and then leaned in slowly, as if waiting for her to stop him. When she didn't move while observing him intently, Alex kissed her softly and she responded in kind. Pulling back after a moment, he gazed at her with a softness that she had seen only a few times before. His thumb caressed her cheek and he smiled at her. "Nomes…"

Noma didn't know what to do. This was what she wanted, what she desired so much that it hurt. But she still remembered who and what she was as well as the fact that he was the Chosen One. The Chosen One who meant so much to her kind. The one who was supposed to change everything. And yet…

…she leaned into him and wrapped her fingers in his hair as she kissed him with everything she had. All the love she had to give him, she poured into that kiss and they were locked in that embrace for several minutes before he pulled her down onto the bed.

Smoothing the hair from her face, he gave her an enormous smile that touched his eyes and warmed her heart. "Nomes, I…"

She beamed at him, smiling with fondness, and kissed him again. She didn't need him to say it. Noma already knew.


	8. Vega Dreams

Vega sparkled and twinkled under the night sky as its defense system looked dormant, yet ever ready, and trained on the outer world. The city had been in an upheaval since the slaughtered angels were displayed in the public eye, and the almighty Archangel Michael abruptly disappeared. Add Gabriel's appearance and disappearance, the sudden demise of Becca Thorn and the disposal of William Whele, and the whole city felt not only mournful for their leaders, but also a certain undercurrent of turmoil and fear. It was the perfect recipe for the collapse of Vega.

But Claire Riesen wouldn't have any of that. She knew what had transpired in House Thorn. It wasn't surprising that Becca had been working on the deconstruction of angel anatomy, since the wing restraints for Gabriel had to come from somewhere. But it was shocking to find the body of a higher angel and various dissected angel parts. It was clear to her that things had gone awry and that perhaps the archangel had been pushed over the edge. Not so perfect, I guess, she thought as she stood in her bathroom, leaning over the sink. She was feeling sick not for the first time that day.

Looking at her pale reflection in the mirror, she knew that being pregnant was taking its toll on her. She had trouble sleeping and anything she ate usually came back up. Often, she woke up thinking that Alex was right next to her, holding her, telling her that everything would be all right. Claire had already re-read his letter to their unborn child so many times that she worried the paper was starting to look worn. If only circumstances were different.

Closing her eyes, Claire tried to will the bile back down and drown out the nausea. She couldn't stop thinking about that morning. The Senate meeting had not gone as she hoped. She wasn't completely surprised by everyone's reaction to her proposal, but she had hoped she could slowly make some headway after so many weeks. All she had to do was convince them that her father's number system needed to be changed. Give the people more free will and the option to vote on the things that impacted them.

The chaos that ensued from that proposal lasted for the entire meeting. The Senate was imbalanced since House Thorn was no longer represented. Although, it appeared Arika was vying for a place in the Senate and oddly enough David Whele was encouraging their acceptance of it. Luckily, so far, the rest of the Senate was not willing to comply.

Claire sighed and then swallowed again. The politics were driving her crazy. And David wouldn't speak to her about William or anything regarding the acolytes that were found burnt to a crisp in an abandoned warehouse. They were civil and David often talked to her about certain Senate issues, such as Arika's standing. She knew he was maneuvering as usual. Although not openly apparent, she knew that the loss of his son hit him hard and that he was covering it quite well. As always, he was covering his own assets in the process.

"Lady Riesen?" a muffled voice of her Archangel Corps guard, Ethan, called through the bathroom door. "You have visitors. Should I send them away?"

Claire cleared her throat and straightened, taking one last glance in the mirror. "No, that's quite alright. I'll be out in a moment."

"I will bring them to the sitting room." Ethan's footsteps retreated away from the door.

Claire rinsed her mouth and then plastered a fake smile on her face as she left the bathroom.

~~~~**D**~~~~

In the sitting room, Evelyn, still known only as Arika in Vega, sat on the settee with her legs crossed. She was regal as usual with perfect posture. Uriel stood nearby, still posing as her handmaiden. They had been busy lately, pushing and prodding David to do as they wanted. Evelyn couldn't help but smile as she remembered the look he had given her when she suggested that she take the empty seat in the Senate. Incredulous and possibly shocked, David recovered quickly and smiled at her, using a placating tone as he tried to dissuade her from her goal. It took a few weeks to bring him around, making it seem as if it was his idea and in his best interest to support her.

Uriel had been frustrated with the slow progress, seemingly on a different timetable than Evelyn's. It made Evelyn wonder what exactly Uriel's real end game was. Sure, the archangel had told her that she just wanted to end the war, bring about peace. But sometimes her actions differed from that original sentiment. As much as she enjoyed playing with the angel, she knew better than to implicitly trust her. And love was off the table. No matter how much her hearts strings were pulled occasionally by the blonde temptress.

Originally, they had wanted to take Claire and her growing baby to Helena, to lure the Chosen One away from the two warring brothers. But taking the Lady of the City so abruptly would lay waste to Evelyn's original well-laid plans. It took some convincing, but Uriel eventually agreed to stay in Vega for a little bit longer, most likely to keep an eye on their new leverage.

At the moment, they hoped that by attempting to confer with the Lady of the City, that they could gain her backing in Evelyn's entry into the Senate. And in the process, perhaps become trusted allies. It would make taking her to Helena that much easier. It would also be one step closer to securing Vega's nuclear power and Evelyn's eventual control over multiple settlements. She wanted peace, of course, and if Uriel's plan somehow ensured that, then Evelyn would continue to play along with her. But angels were known to be fickle. And dangerous. And the Queen of Helena knew when to be cautious.

Claire walked in a few moments after her guard retreated to the corner to stand post. She looked thinner than usual, and although she was probably only two months pregnant, she was beginning to show. Evelyn wondered if that was because the father was the Chosen One, or if there was something else at play. She pretended not to notice, keeping her eyes on Claire's pale face as she rose to greet her.

"Lady Riesen, how are you?" Evelyn asked as they all sat down together, Claire in an oversized chair and Evelyn back onto the settee. Uriel sat a little further away, her eyes focusing on Claire like a hawk. Evelyn made a mental note to remind Uriel to tone it down a bit.

"I am well. How are you two?" Claire responded without hesitation, a strong front as usual. Evelyn couldn't help but admire the woman.

"We are well," Evelyn responded with a smile. "We've come here to discuss a small matter…"

Claire nodded, "I have a feeling I know exactly why you are here."

Evelyn glanced at Uriel who didn't move, remaining rigid with a smile plastered on her face as she stared at the Lady, almost if she were staring through her. The angel was behaving oddly, actually. A moment of worry flashed through Evelyn, but she quashed it and turned back to Claire. "It is just that we would like to have a voice in the Senate and that can not be done without support. As a strong female leader, you understand the importance of that support."

Claire studied both of them for a moment. The wheels were turning as she distinctly ignored Uriel's strange behavior. Evelyn folded her hands and tried to look amiable. She could be ruthless but Claire needed a light touch these days. She knew that the Senate was in an uproar with all that was going on. Claire wasn't quite popular at the moment, but it was all about power and she still had it in abundance as the Lady of the City.

"Not to be disrespectful, but what makes you think that Helena has any right to be part of the Senate of Vega?" Claire had no qualms about getting straight to the point.

"Do you not agree that the settlements in the Cradle should become a united front against Gabriel and the angels out there? Wouldn't it be in everyone's best interest? Strength in greater numbers? Vega has soldiers and power and Helena has an air force. Why not combine our assets?" Evelyn smiled, but she could tell that Claire was unconvinced.

"Sounds more like it would benefit Helena rather than Vega, Arika." Claire responded, calmly. "And my lack of popularity these days would probably not be helpful to your cause anyway."

Suddenly, Uriel's whole body jerked for a moment, as if she were abruptly awoken. Blinking, her hand strayed to her side as if she were looking for something, as if it were holstered to her waist.

Evelyn gave her a stern look and then returned to smiling at Claire who was now studying Uriel with curiosity and perhaps mild apprehension.

"Are you okay?" Claire asked.

Uriel jerked again, only this time a strange expression crossed her face and suddenly she launched to her feet. "I can hear it! The fluttering!" she exclaimed, and then jolted forward, grabbing Claire's upper arms and grinning maniacally at her.

Startled by her behavior, Claire pulled away from her, pushing Uriel back and putting the chair she was sitting in between them. Alarm was written all over her face.

Evelyn immediately grabbed the angel by the arms and glared at her. "What is wrong with you? You are scaring the Lady of the City."

Uriel blinked and suddenly relaxed and seemed almost like herself. "What?" she responded, swallowing hard. She looked a little disoriented.

Claire was now on her feet and Ethan was standing next to her, rigid with adrenaline, and hand on his gun. Claire took a breath and then strongly said, "I think it is time for you to leave. I'm not sure what's wrong with your maiden, but perhaps the medical wing can help you."

Evelyn turned back to her and said in placating voice, "She is fine. We are so sorry to disturb you. I'm not quite sure what has come over her. Perhaps we can speak at another time."

Claire stepped a few steps behind Ethan as Evelyn steered a non-resistant Uriel away from them. Ethan was careful not to get too close to the two women, making it a point to stand between them and Claire.

Uriel walked stiffly, murmuring lightly, "I'm sorry. I don't know…what happened…"

Evelyn glanced back to see Claire subconsciously touch her lower abdomen and then the sight was obscured by Ethan's body as he quickly closed the doors behind them.

~~~~**D**~~~~

While leaving House Riesen, Evelyn tightly held onto Uriel's arm, almost to the point of causing pain. She could tell that Uriel was wincing, but the anger that Evelyn felt was barely contained. Hissing, she asked, "Why would you say that? What is wrong with you? You could have destroyed everything, Uriel!"

Uriel's broken expression made Evelyn want to hug the angel, but the fury that she felt made her want to slap her instead. She wouldn't dare to, but it was tempting.

The archangel swallowed stiffly, "My brother…my brother has been practicing his new skill…"

Confused, Evelyn let go of her, turning her blonde lover to face her. "What do you mean?"

"He knows, Evelyn. Gabriel knows about the child."


	9. Down the Road

_Weeks ago…_

The sun was blinding as it scorched the barren desert road. The sand kicked up occasionally as a gust blew by, dancing among the arid landscape. William Whele had been walking for what seemed like ages and his skin felt like it was cracking in the dryness. He had taken his jacket off and used it to create shade for his head and face, covering what he could while keeping his long sleeves pulled all the way down. The heat was overwhelming, but he had to keep going. Keep moving.

William wasn't really sure which direction he was going. He just knew that he was walking _away_ from Vega. Away from his life. Away from his father. His father who had spared him, despite what he had done to him. Despite everything. And now he was probably going to die anyway, all alone out there in the desert. A slow burning agonizing death.

"Thanks Dad," William mumbled to himself as he kept trudging along. He already drank all the water and ate the few meal bars that his father had put in the knapsack. The night before, he had tried to sleep on the side of the road, but there were too many things crawling around him as well as on top of him. Something had already bitten his leg during the day when he had taken a moment to rest. He wasn't quite sure what it had been, but he had two large red angry welts growing on his left leg.

Yet he was still somehow able to walk. So…there was that. William huffed, squinting in the distance. _What little there was to be grateful for_ , he thought.

The stretch before him seemed to blur for a moment as he came to an abrupt halt. He swayed slightly and started to wonder if he was hallucinating. Off in the distance, there was a man standing in the middle of the road. He wore a dark trench coat that covered his head. William squinted again, trying to figure out if the man was real or not.

And then the man sprouted enormous black wings.

William's heart felt like it stopped for a moment and then he quickly recovered, fumbling with the knapsack and pulling out the gun he had so stupidly put away. Barely able to pull it out in time, he stumbled backwards and tripped over himself, falling onto to the ground as the winged one abruptly landed right in front of him. Breathing heavily, William pointed the gun at the angel with his trembling hand.

"I'm here to help you, William." Gabriel's amused voice was almost playful. Definitely careless.

William didn't lower his gun even as Gabriel pushed back the hood on his coat, revealing his grinning face. The archangel held his hands splayed out as if to show that he came in peace.

William stammered, "You're here to help me?"

"Yes, of course," Gabriel said. "Unless you enjoy wandering the desert roads all by yourself. In the blazing sunlight?"

William gathered his wits and tried to form some semblance of coherency. He was dehydrated and had been thinking about Gabriel for hours now. Gabriel and his father. And Claire. And how his life was gone; how there was nothing left for him. Why had Gabriel not trusted him? Why did the archangel come to Vega? What was William's real purpose and value to Gabriel?

And why, oh why, did he think that Gabriel ever cared about him at all?

"What was the point?" he asked the archangel as he tried to stand up, putting more distance between them. His gun hand never lowered for a moment.

Gabriel clasped his hands together, trying to look as non-threatening as possible to his disheveled acolyte. "The point of what, William?"

"Why did you leave me there? Why didn't you tell me? ME? I thought I was your most trusted servant!" William yelled at him, no longer caring that he was antagonizing the almighty archangel. The one who forked people in the eye. For fun. "I worshipped you. I tried to do my best for you. I..."

Gabriel sighed. "Oh, William. You _were_ my trusted acolyte. And I still care for you greatly. You will be rewarded for your service. In fact, I was looking for you, hoping that we could meet once again, so that I may entrust you with another task." He paused, dramatically. And then as if he were truly mournful, he said, "Only to find that you were ousted from Vega."

"They were going to kill me!"

"It made me think that your usefulness had come to an end." Gabriel tilted his head as he studied a sputtering William, his hand still quaking as he kept the gun trained on him.

"My usefulness?" William rasped in disbelief. His face was covered in despair.

"Don't worry, William. You are still quite useful to our cause." The archangel smiled at him and stepped closer. "Why don't you put the gun down before your hurt yourself?"

"You left me… I've only wanted to serve you, Archangel Gabriel. I've only wanted to…" William's voice trailed off as he lost all thought. The sun was blinding and he wondered if maybe he was just losing his mind. That Gabriel wasn't actually here. That maybe he should take the gun and finally use it on himself. It was a thought he had contemplated often in the last twenty-four hours.

Until the archangel stepped even closer and gingerly took the weapon from him.

"You will continue to serve me, William. It will not be in Vega this time, but somewhere new to you. A place where you can slip in unnoticed and start again. Start your life over, do you hear me, William?" Gabriel grabbed the swaying human, steadying him.

"Wh-why are you…how am I supposed to…" William's eyes were unfocused as the dehydration and fatigue took its toll.

Gabriel roughly grabbed him by the jaw and tilted his head up, so that they were eye-to-eye now. "I'm giving you the opportunity at a new life, my trusted acolyte. You will start over. You will gather information and start another congregation, do you hear me?"

William blinked at the angel. Gabriel was real. This was happening. He came back for him. The archangel really _did_ care about him. He blinked again, and then with a sigh of relief, William smiled at him. He whispered, "You came for me."

Gabriel smiled in that mischievous way of his and said, "Hold on tight."

"Wha…" William's voice cut off as Gabriel abruptly wrapped his arm around the man's torso and yanked him off of his feet, taking flight into the cloudless sky. Within seconds, they were soaring across the desert bleakness. Off to a cooler climate. Off to the north.


	10. The Healer

A light wind blew through a stately room bathed in sunlight that cascaded through two open ceiling-to-floor French doors. The doors led out to a small terrace that overlooked a wide unpaved town square. The brightness was in stark contrast to the dark earth tones that adorned the space. Mostly antique furniture, including large wooden bookshelves against one wall and a carved mahogany desk in the middle of the room, made it seem as if the space were misplaced in time. As if the room belonged elsewhere. Long hunter-green drapes hung in front of the available windows that decorated both sides of the office. Ornately decorated chairs were placed before the desk and a larger one was behind it.

And in that chair sat a tall being that shook with anger. One hand gripped the edge of the desk while his whole body sat rigidly in place, back straight, legs poised. His eyes were glazed over as if he were looking off into a great distance and his medium full lips were set in a scowl. "I can hear it! Fluttering!" he blurted out into the empty open space. He gripped the table harder, almost on the verge of breaking the edge of it as he continued to stare at nothing.

A light knock could be heard at the door and then it opened and closed quickly, quietly announcing Azrael as she slipped into the room, still wearing her uniform and fully armed. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail and she looked hurried, only to slow to a halt in front of the desk. Without speaking, she tilted her head, studying the regal one as he continued to look through her as if she wasn't there. He didn't move, nor did he acknowledge her appearance.

Knowing better than to interrupt him, Azrael kept quiet and fell into a soldier's rest stance, hands clasped lightly behind her. She was used to waiting after all this time, keeping vigilance over those around her, especially this one, even as she drilled soldiers and acted as a second-in-command in New Delphi. She could be patient a little longer.

She watched him as he struggled with his composure and wondered how long he had been in the trance. He was dressed in his casual uniform of all black, including tight black cargo pants, black long-sleeved shirt under a black vest with shiny grey scrolling filigree in its design, topped off with a silken black tie and black utility boots that had probably seen better days. His black worn-out leather jacket hung over one of the chairs as did his red-edged Kevlar vest that he wore for appearances when he left the office. It had his red sigil on the front of it; a powerful sigil, a visual aid to keep the others in line. Being the Max Crew Boss of New Delphi took a lot of work and bloodshed, Azrael knew from first-hand experience.

All so that they could bring order to the chaos and mutiny that once threatened to tear apart the remaining humans in the settlement. And to ultimately save their lives, even if it meant saving them from themselves. The small skirmishes that occurred occasionally were nothing compared to the all-out war that was brewing between the rebels, drug users and one particular large crew of cutthroats. People were being slaughtered and kidnapped, and dying from severe poverty, disease, or overdoses. There was no real order to New Delphi's society, no rules and no infrastructure. And there was no hope unless you belonged to a crew or a rebel group. But that required payments in kind; either services rendered or some other way to pay for their "family hospitality."

And then the Max Crew Boss of the strongest cutthroats at the time discovered that he could ensure his position by hooking everyone on a new drug called The Slip. If you were Slipping, you were probably sitting in a corner staring into space as your mind rushed off to another more pleasant place. The drug was highly addictive and decayed the body rather quickly. Azrael had seen enough humans slowly disappear into the Slip Off, where a human's mind could no longer readjust to this reality, permanently disappearing into their own thoughts and desires. For some it was bliss, for others it was torture.

Azrael remained frozen and unblinking much like a statue as she waited and remembered some of the atrocities that she had witnessed when she first infiltrated her way into the settlement. She had helped several humans pass over during that time. Before she found him. Before she found out his plan and decided to aid him in it. Michael had Vega to deal with and Azrael had been scouting New Delphi to report back to Helena, although that hadn't gone as planned. Clearly.

Azrael blinked and then allowed herself to sigh. The last few years had not gone as she had planned. And seeing Michael had brought all of her own desires back to the forefront – something she had quashed a long time ago. She shifted her weight for a moment, readjusting a sword and then settled back into her stance, gazing past the being in front of her to the long broad sword mounted on the wall behind him. It gleamed as usual and was a reminder of his ability to smite those around him. A reminder of his archangel status, even if no one else really knew of his true nature. It seemed to aid him in their quest to bring some order to the settlement. She focused back on the attractive powerful male in front of her.

His sandy light-brown medium-length hair fluttered in the light breeze that blew through the room, and then he blinked, jerking in his seat for moment as if he suddenly came back to himself. His hand remained gripping the table as he refocused and then realization came over him as he looked up at Azrael. Letting go of the table, he immediately stood up, anger still etched across his face. Growling, he spat, "She's carrying the Chosen One's child!"

Azrael tilted her head. "Who is?"

He glared at Azrael, yelling, "You told me Uriel was in Helena! Why is she in Vega with Evelyn? What is she doing there?"

"Uriel has her own agenda, as you know, Raphael. I've told you that she's playing a different game."

Raphael let out a sigh of exasperation, pausing as he composed himself, staring at her. "The Lady of the City is pregnant. And I have to assume that Gabriel already knows this, if Uriel knows this. But why is Evelyn in Vega?"

She didn't move, unfazed by his unblinking stare. "The Chosen One's child? Uriel will surely be vying for control over it. But Evelyn is looking for more resources. We've been over this."

Raphael didn't move, mulling something over. And then he snapped, slamming his fist into the desk, which resulted in the dark wood cracking in the middle, splintering across and making the entire thing shudder with instability.

Azrael didn't flinch, hands still clasped behind her, watching his outburst with almost no interest. It wasn't the first time the Healer Archangel had lost it in his foray into the human world.

"What is the _point_ of all of this?" Raphael rasped as he ran his fingers through his hair and again tried to rein himself in. "And where _is_ Michael? Have you found him yet? I want to end this charade!" He paused, looking past the open French doors, out at the bright light that bathed everything. Sighing, he said quietly, "I miss Home, Azrael."

Shifting, she tried to contain her own emotions that suddenly flared up at the mention of their world of light. "I do, too."

"You haven't found him yet?" Raphael smoothed his vest and calmly sat down in his chair again, ignoring the broken desk in front of him.

"Not yet. I will. And he will help us. I'm sure of it," she said evenly. Telling him about Michael was not something she was ready to do. Michael wasn't ready yet, and she knew it.

"And the Chosen One? What of him? Still with Gabriel?"

"So my sources tell me." Azrael responded, quietly, watching as the archangel transitioned back into the unfazed Max Crew Boss. He often portrayed himself as a flippant sarcastic mercenary and Azrael acted as his right hand. Both came off as ruthless whenever possible. But in private, she had seen him as his usual compassionate self, as the angel who wanted to save and heal everyone and then retreat back to the Light. It was the part of him that he only showed her and those he healed. It was how they slowly had turned things around in the settlement and she admired him for his ability to switch between the two extremes. It was his plan after all, to help these humans, keep them from the brink of extinction. And he'd do it with the bluntness of a sword if need be.

"And no progress with His words on his skin?" Raphael folded his hands in his lap as he studied the dark-haired angel in front of him.

"It appears not."

"Seems Gabriel has other plans," he contemplated. "It makes sense now why the Chosen One went to the aerie. He is saving his progeny and Vega from Gabriel. Gabriel probably threatened him. What plan could he possibly have if he already has Alex Lannon?"

"Why don't you possess Gabriel and see for yourself?" Azrael treaded lightly in this subject, but she didn't like that he had started this quest once more. Years ago, Raphael had attempted possession in order to gain more information on Gabriel. His justification had been "to aid Michael." But he gave up on it once he realized how difficult it would be to try to possess a higher angel. Technically, it was probable that most of the archangels could possess a lower angel, if they had the inclination to do so. But to possess a higher angel was much more…invasive. And disturbing for both the possessor and the possessed.

He glared at her, "You know that I can not. And will not."

"So you draw the line at Uriel?" Azrael broached, her own ire now flaring up. "Why not find Michael in this manner?"

He looked stricken and abashed. "I do not enjoy possession, and you know that! I have only done so with Uriel because she and I were close once and we have a connection."

"And what else have you learned from possessing your twin's form?"

Raphael stood up again, his royal-blue eyes blazing. "I've learned enough! Do not start down this path again, Azrael! We do what we must in order to move forward in this ridiculous war! We are all here at the mercy of this human world and there is _nothing_ we can do about it! Father has abandoned _all_ of us!" He pounded once more on the broken desk, this time it collapsed completely, falling to the floor in a splintered mess.

Standing there, the archangel heaved deeply, his hands balled into fists.

And then he looked at Azrael and found that she now had both of her swords out, splayed open and ready for any attack. Raphael shook his head for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he stood straighter and unclenched his fists.

And then he smirked at his friend, defusing the situation. "Really? The swords?"

A flash of surprise crossed Azrael's face as she glanced down and realized what she had done. She hadn't even noticed that she had pulled them out.

"You really gonna fight me with swords, Azrael?" he teased, using an exaggerated sarcastic tone, often the tone that he would use when dealing with people as the Max Crew Boss.

Recovering quickly, Azrael gave him a dirty look as she relaxed her stature.

A loud knock at the door interrupted them.

"Max Boss, I've got Will Zail here to see you." A voice hesitantly penetrated the door.

Raphael gave Azrael a snide side-glance while he walked around the mess and put on his Kevlar vest. It made his broad-shouldered tall physique even more intimidating.

Azrael quickly holstered her swords and took a soldier's stance nearby, face schooled and stoic once more as Raphael smoothed his long sleeves and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Bring him in," Raphael commanded, smirking slightly.

The door opened and a soldier stepped in, holding the door open for none other than William Whele. Dressed in faded jeans, grey shirt and a brown bomber jacket, Vega's former Principate looked like he had assimilated into New Delphi's less-than-savory societal norms. His dark hair was cropped so short that it was almost spikey and he was sporting a few bruises, including one on his jawline and a fading one under his left eye. He probably had seen better days.

Walking into the office, William Whele, now known only as Will Zail, still seemed to radiate confidence and authority. Standing in front of Raphael, he waited for the soldier to close the door behind him before speaking.

Raphael smirk was gone, studying the man. Azrael remained still like a statue.

"Why are you here, Zail? Have you come to join the Oracle Corps?" Raphael asked.

William shifted his weight. "No, Max Boss. As I'm sure you know, I would not be suited for the Oracle Corps."

"Then we have no business here, and you can go." Raphael turned away from the man and strode over to his chair, plopping himself down, feigning nonchalance, although Aztrael could see the tension in his movements.

William took a step after him, but then stopped as he noticed a slight shift in Azrael's stance. He swallowed, ignoring all the warning bells in his head. Focusing back on Raphael, William spoke up, "I came here for another matter, Max Boss."

Raphael sighed with exaggeration and then motioned to him to continue. Azrael tried not to roll her eyes.

William spoke to Raphael from across the room. "I have… _we_ are in need of your…expertise. You know that my small group has only banded together out of necessity, and that our neutrality is tentative at best these days? Well, one of our members was taken from us a few days ago by the Delphi Alliance. She was returned to us this morning, beaten and broken. But worst of all, she has fallen into the Slip Off."

Azrael shifted as Raphael hissed, "Another one?"

"Another one, Max Boss?"

"The Delphi Alliance has been testing the waters, Zail. You know that they are the last of the major crews in this settlement. Oracle Corps has been keeping watch." Raphael paused, studying the human. "Was there something else?"

William swallowed again. Asking the ruthless Max Boss for anything could be detrimental to his health, as well those in his little group that he had cobbled together. It consisted of a group of outsiders who didn't belong to Oracle Corps or Delphi Alliance. There were only a few small groups like his in the settlement and they only existed by the grace of this ruthless leader who somehow kept Delphi Alliance from completely slaughtering them all.

In the past, those that operated outside of the confines of the crews often benefited by this neutrality, playing off the crews and buying and selling to anyone. But since Oracle Corps. grew and took over, William was told by those that had been living there for years that so many things had changed. He was just glad that he had something to belong to again. It had taken him a few weeks to finally be included and then naturally rose to being a leader. And now the one woman that he had taken a liking to in this bastard place had been kidnapped, beaten and hooked on some ridiculous drug.

With balled fists, William calmly asked with a slight angry tremor in his voice, "I was told that you could reverse the effects of the Slip Off. I've come here to request for your assistance, Max Boss."

Raphael stared at him, not moving for a moment. It was hard to discern what he was thinking. He looked more angry than pensive. And then he stood up, quickly walking up to William and roughly grabbing him by jacket. "And you're sure that it was the Delphi Alliance?"

"Yes! It was them!"

Raphael tightened his grip on William's jacket. "If you're lying, Zail, I will end you."

Azrael snorted.

Raphael shot her a glare, but William was shaking. Shaking with anger more than fear. He yanked away from the archangel, taking a step back and spat out, "I'm not lying. _They_ took her! They have been taking others! They're doing something to people for no reason! And what has the Oracle Corps done? Nothing!"

Raphael stepped closer to the human, standing at his full height, which towered over William. The imposing nature of his height and the glare that he turned on William made the human rethink his own anger.

"The Oracle Corps has been saving your little group from being completely disintegrated and yet you show no gratitude with your arrogance and your preaching of a better life with faith and worshipping." Raphael said in an eerily calm and even tone.

William's mouth fell open in surprise. "How did you…"

"I'm well aware of your recruiting sessions. Searching for those who want to join your little group of worshippers. Using the myth of the Chosen One to take advantage of people is just as questionable as the other practices in New Delphi. So don't you dare take a righteous tone with me!"

William closed his mouth, trying not to look too relieved. It was clear that the Max Boss had no idea that he was actually recruiting for Gabriel, not for the worship of the Chosen One. This meant William had been successful in flying just under the radar. It made him almost smile, but he tried for meek instead. "I'm sorry, Max Boss. I'm just…the woman that was taken…she is…I care for her. I will pay and I will be of service to you, if you want or need me to be. In exchange for your cure."

Azrael glanced at the archangel. She wanted to shake her head and interrupt him before he agreed to help the human. Raphael had healed enough people in this settlement.

Raphael glared down at William who now wouldn't look him in the eye. The archangel hesitated. Healing still came easy to him, but the Slip Off was more complicated than a typical healing of a wound. It took more effort to bring back a human's mind as opposed to knitting together sliced flesh. And to do a Healing with no witnesses became increasingly harder to do. If word got out that it was his own abilities that healed these people, most likely his archangel status would also be revealed. And so far, he had been able to keep that under wraps.

"I beg of you, Max Boss," William almost whispered as he looked up at the imposing angel and noticed how fierce his face looked.

And then Raphael blinked, smirked at him and roughly clapped him on the shoulder, almost sending the human to the floor. "Bring her here this evening. Only she may enter this room, and you can wait downstairs. No one else. And then…" Raphael paused, smiling largely. "And then, you will do a few things for me. I have a few errands that need to be taken care of. A few that only someone like you can take care of."

William nodded, "Ok. Yes! It's a deal then?" He put out his hand to shake on it.

Raphael ignored it and walked back to his chair and sat down, lounging back as if he were relaxing on a lawn chair. He dismissed him with a nod. "This evening."

William nodded and then turned to leave. Azrael was suddenly standing there with a stoic expression, holding the door open for him. The human shuddered slightly and then left the room with Azrael closing the door behind him.

Walking over to Raphael, Azrael paused in front of the destroyed desk. Raphael looked pensive, tapping his chin absently.

"Delphi Alliance has now violated our truce three times in the last two weeks." Azrael stated without emotion.

"It seems so." Raphael said, staring at nothing as the wheels turned in his head.

"I know you're avoiding bloodshed."

"I am."

"And if that doesn't work?" Azrael asked.

"Not _everything_ needs to be solved by a sword, Azrael." Raphael said, quietly.

She nodded, more to herself. As much as the others thought she enjoyed solving everything in that manner, she actually preferred less messier methods. It just happened to be that she was quite good at the other option.

Raphael looked at the dark-haired angel, again standing in a soldier's stance. He often wondered if that just felt natural to her, or if she had adopted that mannerism from the years of being in New Delphi as the General of Oracle Corps. Taking the last step and dismantling Delphi Alliance would take another war, which was what he was trying to avoid. Only in the last year had he been able to gain some stability in New Delphi, especially after the fall of Channa's crew. Having another war would make them lose more lives. Again.

He sighed. "Maybe the sword _is_ the only way in this settlement."

"More like the gun." Azrael cracked a smile.

Ignoring her, he stated, "Either way they die." Raphael shook his head, leaning his elbows on his knees and making a steeple with his fingers.

"If Gabriel has his way, they will all die eventually."

"Gabriel and his grand plans. Killing everyone will not bring Him back. And if he did, it would only anger Him." He paused, thinking. "Where is He?" Raphael said quietly, more to himself.

Azrael's smile disappeared and she shifted her swords as she took a seat across from him. She stared at him. "You need to stop that, Raphael."

"Stop what, Azrael? Wonder where the fuck our creator disappeared to? Why our Home is disappearing? Why we're stuck _here_ trying to help creatures that don't want to be helped?" Raphael spat, his ire again roiling underneath.

Azrael said in an even calming tone, "It's not productive, Raphael. This life you've created for yourself…for us…you're doing His work. You're trying. Just…"

"Just WHAT?" Raphael's pained face stared back at her.

They were silent for a moment. Azrael understood his pain. She felt the same way, but she refused to dwell on it. It didn't serve her so she put it in a box, which was something she was good at doing. It was the only way she was able to help people cross over… or force them to. Compartmentalization worked on many levels for her.

"Go find Michael, damn it! Find him! Now! We need him," Raphael said in a dark tone.

Azrael studied her partner in all of this chaos. Bringing Michael here might cause even more upheaval, but she knew Raphael was running out of ideas and so was she.

Standing abruptly, she adjusted her swords and stood at attention like a good soldier. In a deadpan sarcastic tone, she said, "Ok, _Max Boss_. On it, _Max Boss._ Anything else, _Max Boss?"_

He threw her a disgusted look as he leaned back in the chair. "Don't do that."

Azrael's face was stoic as she looked at him for a moment. When she opened her mouth, her tone was even and scarily calm. "Don't make me remind you, Raphael."

He sighed, bowing his head in acquiescence. She had a point. The longer he played this role, the easier it was to slip into demanding obedience from others. And then the violence involved when pretending to be a merciless mercenary… well that was scarily intoxicating. But Raphael didn't have to worry too much. Azrael would gladly beat the behavior out of him, as she had done once in the past.

The warrior angel stared at him for a moment longer and then didn't say anything more as she walked away from him, quietly leaving through the door and leaving him to contemplate their next move.


	11. Turmoil

**_Author's Note:_ **

I have yet to see the extra footage that will be available on DVD for the US in two days (this footage was shown as part of the finale for the UK). From what I've read, that footage would probably impact my Noma/Alex storyline greatly as well as Alex's relationship with Gabriel. But since I haven't watched it, my idea for this story as a second season has now turned more into an alternate universe. But such is all fan fiction, so hope you can still enjoy it.

Apologies for such a long break between updates. Was distracted by NaNoWriMo.

Happy Holidays all! Enjoy!

**~~**D**~~**

Chapter 11: Turmoil

Sitting on the ledge of the windowless opening in the Space Needle, Michael's legs dangled off the edge as he watched over the abandoned city of Seattle. The clouds were roiling about and there was a threat of rain in the air. He was alone at the moment, feeling groggy and pensive after the previous night of drunkenness.

He closed his eyes, remembering vaguely how Azrael had run her fingers through his hair and embraced him, calming him for the moment. Michael felt mildly embarrassed that he had succumbed to his baser instincts, seeking her arms for some sort of respite from all that was plaguing his mind. She had taken him by the hands and encouraged him to lie down. And when he reached for the bottle of whiskey again, she had taken it away and placed it across the room, causing him to sigh in disappointment.

"You need a clear head, Michael."

He understood, of course, but hadn't wanted to comply. Being under the influence drowned out most of the anger and pain that seemed to have taken hold in his chest. Having made her point, Azrael had pulled him onto the bed and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close to her warm body. His head rested on her shoulder, his face close to her neck and his arm around her torso, legs wrapped around each other. It calmed him down as she continued to stroke his head, smoothing his hair back and running fingers down his cheek. Her touch made him relax as everything drained away. After a while, he had fallen asleep. For the first time in weeks, Michael was able to sleep through the night. Finally.

Only to wake to an empty bed.

Michael opened his eyes as he heard thunder off in the distance. The tumultuous sky was an apt reflection of how he was feeling at the moment. He wasn't sure where Azrael flew off to, but it was disconcerting to him. How had she found him and why? He would like to believe that her loyalty was still with him after all this time, but his bleary mind understood that she might have other plans. It had been many years since she went off into the Cradle. Since they had parted ways.

Originally, he had asked her to go and gather as many humans as possible, to save as many as she could and assist where it was warranted. He had suggested that she perhaps go to Helena and blend in as they organized their new settlement. Although the other higher angels often thought she was brutal and callous, he knew her in a different light. He had witnessed her unusual ability to slip in among the humans, emote as they do, push and pull here and there, pulling strings as if she were working her way through a chess game. Among their kind, she was usually in a state of detachment, often coming off as cold and alienating. He had told her before that it made the others uncomfortable. Azrael had shrugged him off in that nonchalant way of hers.

Michael had heard rumors of the Camp and then the newly-formed settlement, New Delphi sprung up. He had visited New Delphi from time to time, but the Camp always took too long to locate as it moved often. And Helena had been off limits to him over the years. Not surprisingly, they were not open to male angelic visitations. He always assumed Azrael was still doing her duty, keeping to the shadows and playing her game of chess, all in the efforts to help Michael and thwart Gabriel. Of course, he had missed her as time went by, but he wondered now if she had something else in store, or perhaps her loyalty had changed all together and she was no longer on his side.

All his dealings with the humans and Gabriel's rebellion had made him distrustful even of his most loyal allies. After Becca's actions, it was hard for him not to question everyone's motives. After Becca…

_Oh, Becca_ , he thought. The archangel sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly.

Lightening crossed the sky and a few moments later more thunder echoed throughout the city. Michael stood up, still standing at the edge, glancing down at the long drop. It had been a few days since he'd flown. It would feel exhilarating with the danger of the incoming storm.

And then something strange happened. He felt a great pressure in his head and he could have sworn that he heard a voice whispering to him. Michael tried to shake the bizarre feeling of someone suddenly watching him. Taking a few steps back, he blinked to clear his abruptly blurring vision. A moment passed and his vision cleared, but he felt confused and disoriented. Something was incredibly wrong.

Stumbling back inside, his head started to hurt intensely with variable pangs of sharp pain, as if someone was smashing into his temples. Or as if someone was trying to hammer their way inside. Everything in his vision was tilting and bopping about, and he rapidly felt sick to his stomach as it threatened to rebel against him.

He clutched his head with both hands and moaned for a second. "What…" he gasped as the air in his lungs suddenly felt scarce. And then he stumbled away from the glassless window and closer to his bed.

" _Let me in…"_ a voice whispered and reverberated through Michael's body.

Michael moaned in pain for a moment and then it occurred to him why he was in pain. He realized immediately what was happening.

Letting go of his head, he stood still, standing upright and as balanced as he could. Blinking for a moment, he kept his vision as still as possible, bracing himself as the hammering continued in his head. Michael steeled himself, trying to withstand the onslaught. He swallowed hard and then growled into the room, "NO!"

" _Let me in… come on, brother…"_ Gabriel's voice was loud and coaxing, echoing through Michael's aching mind and causing the archangel to cringe.

Gripping his head again, Michael squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth as he tried to concentrate on his mental defense. It felt as if someone was drilling into him and then the pain intensified as he continued to resist. Severe pain zinged through his body and radiated down his back. The pain was so much so that he staggered to his knees and his wings suddenly appeared, as if to protect him from the onslaught.

Breathing heavily, he tried to remain somewhat upright. Images of a grand hall where Gabriel must have been sitting at that very moment flickered through Michael's mind as he tried to gain control of the tenuous situation by shoving the connection back in the other direction. He could almost feel Gabriel gasp as he fought for control.

"NO!" Michael spat out loudly into the empty room, as if he could somehow counteract Gabriel's attempt with his voice alone. He tried to slow his breath and made the effort to put his wings away. Anger fueled his efforts as he continued to make his stand. The two brothers were locked in a mental power struggle and Michael felt like he was on the verge of throwing up everything he's ever eaten.

And then another image of the same room flickered past, only now Alex was standing in front of him, looking concerned. "Alex?" Michael whispered, feeling stunned suddenly. And then Michael felt a flash of Gabriel's own anger zing through him as Gabriel wrestled for control. Alex was saying something but Michael couldn't understand him. The image went dark for a moment and Michael sat there, gasping for air and blinking, trying to regain some semblance of himself.


	12. The Onslaught

Alex shivered a little as he walked down the hallway. The aerie often had a cold gust of wind blowing through its halls and it fluttered constantly through even the most hidden rooms. He wondered if the 8-balls ever noticed it, or if they were too busy enjoying their other Earthly delights to really care about the fact that it brought a chill to their bones. Alex tried not to outwardly sneer in disgust at the thought of the 8-balls that he encountered daily. Under Gabriel’s rule, their behavior seemed to be getting worse by the week.

Walking into the Feasting Room, as Gabriel liked to call it, Alex paused, noticing that the grand hall was currently occupied. On the large dais was an oversized chair that Gabriel often favored. He was sitting there, stock-still and staring off into the distance. He looked almost pained as he visibly strained to concentrate on whatever it was that he was seeing.

After a moment, Alex realized that he was witnessing Gabriel’s attempt at possession. A different type of shiver ran down Alex’s spine. Moving slowly, he walked closer, wondering how much Gabriel could sense in the room itself.

The archangel furrowed his brows in concentration and gripped the chair’s armrest. “Let me in…”

Alex paused. Who would Gabriel try to possess now? The angels were gone from Vega. So many were killed and any others were part of Gabriel’s amassing army in the aerie. Except for Michael. And also Uriel who was free in the world to do as she pleased. Alex held his breath for a moment, thinking hurriedly. Perhaps Gabriel was possessing an angel in the other settlements? Gabriel wouldn’t try to possess his sister or brother, would he? Could he even? He had been able to possess a higher angel, but not another archangel?

Gabriel slammed his hand on the armrest with fury. “COME ON! I know you…”

Alex shook his head, wondering if he should intercede and what the consequences would be for such an action. Would Gabriel take his wrath out him or on Noma? Or perhaps the archangel would make good on his word and go after Claire and his child? Or perhaps the whole city? It pained him to watch this angel do whatever it was that he was doing. Alex knew it couldn’t be for the good.

And then suddenly a large smile spread over the archangel’s face as he hoarsely whispered, “That’s it…Let me in...Come on, brother…”

“Shit,” Alex said quietly to himself. It had to be Michael, unless Gabriel was speaking figuratively. Torn, Alex stared at the archangel who was reveling in some mental victory. And then the Chosen One made a dicey decision.

Despite the consequences, he stepped closer, although within a safe distance. “Gabriel!” he shouted, trying to distract the angel from whatever he was doing, but the smiling archangel didn’t move. Gabriel was still fixated on his prey.

Alex clapped his hands and shouted once more, trying to break Gabriel’s concentration. And then he dared to get closer and grabbed the angel by his arm, jostling him. Yet Gabriel didn’t veer away from his task. The angel didn’t move much. Not much.

Until Alex held his breath and did the unthinkable. He abruptly backhanded the archangel across the face, breaking the tenuous mental link for a moment. Gabriel looked stunned and momentarily confused, but he recovered quickly, glaring up at Alex who was now towering over him.

Alex demanded, “Who are you possessing?”

Gabriel didn’t answer at first, his eyes glazing for a moment as he reestablished a shaky link, or tried to, but he spoke to Alex with feigned calm, “Your beloved Michael has been a naughty boy…as usual…”

“Gabriel, you need to leave him alone. Wherever he is…” Alex said sternly, but his unsaid words also hinted at his own curiosity as to where Michael had been and what he had been doing.

Gabriel ignored him for a moment, again trying to reestablish the link but cringing as Michael fought it.

“Gabriel!” Alex shouted, about to reach out to touch him once more.

But Gabriel acted first, standing rapidly and backhanding Alex violently across the face. It sent the Chosen One flying across the room and smacking into the wall. Alex crumpled to the floor with a groan as he lost consciousness.

“Don’t distract me, _boy_.” The archangel sat back down and went back to concentrating on his prey.

 

* * *

 

Michael cried out in pain as he gripped his head and fought for his own body. When had Gabriel gotten so strong? And so capable of possessing archangels? The pain intensified and he was afraid he would give in if it continued. There was no time to be incredulous and yet the thoughts kept skittering across his mind. How could his brother attempt to possess him? Why would he do that? This was really happening? Michael cringed, still sitting on his knees as the knocking feeling got stronger in his head. It angered him that his brother would try to possess him. How dare he! Gabriel was hammering away at his mental defenses and it was exhausting.

“Nooo… Gabriel!” he growled loudly with fury and then tried to stand back up, forcing his brother back and shoving the power back the other way.

He looked through Gabriel’s eyes once more and saw Alex crumpled in a heap across the room. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he knew he had to somehow help Alex. This was not how it was supposed to be. Alex was his one good thing; his redemption.

And then the pain increased ten-fold and made him fall to his knees yet again. He looked across the room for a moment, feeling suddenly numb and detached as he stared at one of the cartons that had big lettering on it. The Seattle Needle brand logo was on the cartons as well as various other things in the room, and it struck him as odd. _What was in Seattle that was so important?_

Michael realized suddenly that those were Gabriel’s thoughts and not his. He fought again, closing his eyes and cutting off any information that his brother could glean. The pain in his head exploded behind his eyes and he felt sick to his stomach. He turned to face the window again and opened his eyes, only to see someone winged flying towards him.

He was starting to tire. Gabriel was so strong and it made him so ill. And he had been so hard on himself and devastated by what he had done in Vega. He was afraid of becoming the one who slaughtered everyone once more. The one responsible for the Flood. He didn’t want to be that… again.

And Gabriel knew that. His brother had banked on it.

Michael felt himself slipping. The self-hatred was getting worse and all consuming. He couldn’t tell if Gabriel was the one fueling it, or if he was just finally allowing for it to surface from the depths of his darkest thoughts. His body felt heavy and he wondered if he should just give in. Give up control. It would be so much easier to just give in.

 _Give in…_ a voice whispered.

The winged one got closer, becoming more visible in the tumultuous sky. Michael realized who it was and it gave him a moment’s lull from the darkness. A moment of hope. He shoved Gabriel out in another concerted effort. The pain seared through him, making him fall over as Azrael landed in front of him and crouched down to get a closer look. Her face was etched with concern.

“What is wrong, Michael?” her voice soft as she tried to pull his hands from his head.

He groaned, resisting her attempt, and curled in on himself as he continued to fight against the damn pain. With one more shove he pushed back at Gabriel only to find himself staring through his eyes again. The hall hadn’t changed, but now Alex was standing in front of him again. He was no longer crumpled in the corner, but instead standing tall and vibrant and seemingly holding Michael’s face with both hands. Elation and then confusion crossed Michael’s mind as he looked up at Alex.

The Chosen One had a look of surprise on his face as well as something else. Something fierce and dangerous.

 


	13. Dangerous Actions

Moments ticked away as Gabriel remained motionless on his faux throne. He was virtually a statue except for the few angry twitches in his face when Michael thwarted him. The two brothers were at an impasse, but Gabriel was banking on wearing Michael down.

The room seemed colder than before and it took Alex a few tries to open his eyes. His body ached as he slowly straightened himself out and pushed himself upright. He took a few more moments and then stood up, achingly. He kept Gabriel in his line of sight, noticing how the archangel was still struggling to possess an uncooperative Michael. The angel started gripping both armrests and a sheet of sweat was dripping down his face. Gabriel appeared furious all of a sudden and Alex wondered if it was at his brother or his own frustration at not being able to best him.

Alex moved closer and then halted, leaving extra distance between them. His bruised ribs reminded him that he didn’t want a repeat performance of Gabriel’s wrath. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. The tattoos had started moving, as they usually did when he was within Gabriel’s proximity. It was a strange sensation and he decided to heed it this time. Opening his eyes, he glanced down at his left arm and then immediately shrugged out of his warm jacket. Pulling up the sleeve of his sweater, he watched as the tattoos scrolled around his forearm and then in an instant they stopped. Words formed immediately, the meaning becoming clear to Alex. It had an oddly calmative effect on him. It was then that Alex knew what to do as an extraordinary sense of power rushed through him, rippling out from his chest and down his arms.

Immediately, he set his sight on Gabriel, glaring at the archangel intensely. Lifting his left hand, he turned his palm outward so that it faced the angel. With a deep breath, he concentrated on Gabriel and focused all of his newfound energy on the angel. “Secure this intruder!”

At first nothing happened, but Alex was determined so he tried once more, his voice getting stronger as he stepped closer. “SECURE THIS INTRUDER!”

Gabriel shuddered for a moment, blinking and then looking directly at Alex. He stood up, anger crossing the angel’s face. “What do you think you’re doing, _boy_?”

Alex yelled again, “SECURE THIS INTRUDER!”

Something severe was happening and it made Gabriel take notice. The anger was abruptly replaced with concern. His head was starting to tingle as his vision blurred a little.

“SECURE THIS INTRUDER!” Alex continued, stepping closer.

Gabriel grabbed his head as intense pain suddenly struck him. He tried to keep the connection he had established with Michael as he gripped his head and squeezed his eyes shut. A cry of pain escaped his lips as he stumbled forward and fell to his knees.

And then surprisingly the Chosen One was standing directly in front of him, roughly grabbing his jaw with both hands. Gabriel could barely move as Alex’s touch brought even more pain, radiating through his head and down throughout his body. It was almost as if he were unexpectedly paralyzed.

Alex didn’t know what made him launch at the angel. It made sense to him somehow and as soon as he touched Gabriel, a flood of images clouded his sight. Without realizing it, he had gained access to whatever he had been seeing.

The vision was not quite clear, most likely due to Michael’s resistance against Gabriel’s connection. However, Alex could still make out the haphazard room that Michael was in. And then the vision shifted as presumably Michael turned to an opened window. The skyline was gray with tall buildings and clouds that threatened rain. Someone winged was flying towards him. Alex could almost taste the pain that Michael was suffering from.

The winged being landed in front of him. It was a woman with black and blue wings dressed in red and black soldier gear that looked oddly familiar. She held a look of concern. Wanting to know more about Michael and his whereabouts, Alex was almost pulled deeper into the vision. His concern for the archangel made him feel torn as well, but he remembered what the point of all this was and shifted his focus one more time.

Alex whispered, hoarsely, “Secure this intruder.”

And then the vision went dark as the tenuous connection disappeared. Alex opened his eyes to find that Gabriel was still on his knees in front of him. The angel was rigid, yet his head lolled in Alex’s hands. Gabriel was breathing heavily and was noticeably in a lot of pain.

The Chosen One leaned forward and whispered, “You have not shown your worth, Gabriel. Bring what may come, but you’re not hurting those I love anymore. I will make sure of that.”

Gabriel slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Alex. The fury started to creep into his expression as he haphazardly yanked himself away from the human. “You dare say that?” Gabriel rasped angrily, his voice low and menacing as he finally found his feet, taking a step away from the Chosen One.

Though Alex wasn’t exactly fearful of the archangel at the moment, he _was_ cautious of those wings. Giving the angel some space, Alex felt the tattoos start to move again. He knew what he wanted to do, the fury in his own chest eating away at him. The sudden power he had felt was burning through his body and seeing Gabriel’s smug angry face only fueled his own rage towards the angel.

He lifted his left hand up again, palm facing Gabriel, and he thought about the change in words. The tattoos had given him what he needed, if only he could actually pull it off. If he did this, it would save so many. It would change everything.

“SEAL THIS VESSEL!” he commanded and clenched his fist simultaneously, as if closing his hand over Gabriel’s heart. As if he were squeezing the life from it.

Gabriel tried to take a step forward to put a halt to Alex with another backhand, but he abruptly crumpled to the ground, grabbing at his chest and then his head while moaning in massive pain. The lights were blurring for the angel and something seemed to be suffocating him. His heart was pounding and his wings immediately appeared, wrapping themselves around him as if to protect his body. “What…what are you…doing to me?” he barely heaved out.

“I’m teaching _you_ a lesson,” Alex told him, still clenching his fist. “If you come near Vega or Claire or anyone I care about, I will make sure to finish this lesson. Do you hear me?” Alex felt…he felt like he was on fire. Whatever was giving him strength was also making him feel…reckless. Out of control. Euphoric.

Gabriel sputtered, fully clutching his head now, and curled in on himself on the floor.

“What…What is happening?” Furiad’s confused voice sputtered from behind Alex.

Ignoring Furiad’s sudden presence, Alex stared at the angelic heap in front of him. The wings were obscuring his view of Gabriel’s face, but he could imagine how much pain he was in from the moans that were escaping him.

Furiad rushed forward, about to tackle Alex and put an end to whatever was happening, but the Chosen One threw up his right hand and concentrated. “Agito,” Alex said with an eerie calm, and Furiad was thrown backwards by an unseen force. His wings popped out and slowed his trajectory to the wall as he glared at Alex.

“You’re killing him, don’t you see that?” Furiad spat out.

Alex didn’t move, staring at the pained archangel. At that moment, he wanted it. He wanted to end it all. End the war. Finish Gabriel’s ridiculous war on everything. He was the one who tried to wipe out the human race. He was the one who threatened Alex’s unborn child. He threatened Claire and everyone he loved.

And yet…

For some reason, Alex hesitated. He knew he had the ability to do it. He had killed before, and Gabriel had given him enough reason to end him once and for all. But something held him back, like a small warning bell going off in his head. Although he could feel the power inside him, he could tell that it was slowly faltering. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to do much of anything.

“Noma.” Furiad said, quietly. “Just think of Noma. You kill him, the 8-balls will lose all direction. And Noma…she’ll be a casualty. I won’t be able to protect her.” he paused. “As much as I’d like to.”

Alex closed his eyes for a moment. Furiad might be right. The tattoos were suddenly very still. He could feel them stop and whatever had made him feel powerful the moment before was rapidly starting to disappear. The decision was rapidly slipping out of his grasp. He knew he had to have enough strength to get Noma and himself out of the aerie before Gabriel regained his footing.

He opened his eyes and looked down at the whimpering angel. He clenched his hand for a second longer and then let it go. The power inside of him reverberated back into his chest and suddenly seemed to trickle out of him, leaving Alex rapidly exhausted.

Gabriel’s wings suddenly relaxed and fell to the sides, revealing his face. He was out cold, but still alive. He looked pallid and almost peaceful in his slumber.

Furiad didn’t move too close, sidestepping the Chosen One. “You should go. Now. While you can.” He hoarsely whispered. “He won’t be happy, Alex.”

It was the one and only time Furiad had ever called him by his real name. It was usually either “human” or “Chosen One” said in a disdainful way. But this time… this time Furiad was seeing him for what he was. A being with power that happened to care about the same angel as he did.

“Take Noma and go,” Furiad said quietly. “I’ll keep the others from following.”

Alex stumbled backward. He was tiring drastically. Whatever power was running through him before was draining away. And it was taking its toll. It didn’t take much convincing from Furiad. Alex grabbed his jacket off the floor and turned on his heels, heading to Noma’s room. They had wanted to leave for so long, it seemed almost like a bizarre dream.

 

A few moments later, he found himself in Noma’s room. Since he was so worn down, he barely made any sense when he burst into her space, haphazardly holding his jacket and barely keeping his eyes open. She had been sitting on the bed, staring into space, thinking about Home when the ashen-faced man suddenly showed up.

She immediately rose from the bed and steadied him. He looked shattered. “What happened?” she asked, with concern.

“We have to go. Take whatever you need and let’s get out of here,” he slurred, suddenly feeling sort of drunk and uneven. “Can you fly?”

“Yes, I think so.” Her eyebrows were knit together with concern. She grabbed his face and made him stop moving for a moment. He tried to focus on her as she asked, “What happened?”

“I did something… to Gabriel. So we need to go before the others find out. Furiad said he’d hold them off.” He paused. “For your sake.”

Noma studied him for a moment more, searching his eyes which struggled to stay open against the fatigue. “We need to go, Noma,” he whispered, almost in a pleading tone.

She didn’t hesitate after that, knowing that Alex would explain later. If they could escape without casualty, she would take the opportunity. Grabbing the only jacket she owned, they quickly started down the hallway. Immediately, she noticed that Alex was weaving and definitely not acting like himself.

Pausing to lean against the wall, Alex took a deep breath. His chest was hurting and he couldn’t seem to muster up the energy to keep going. He tried to wordlessly wave her on, not wanting to hold her up. But she wouldn’t move without him.

“Go, Noma,” he slurred. “Just get… get out of here…Find Michael. He needs help…”

A chastising look crossed her face as she grabbed his arm and pulled it over her shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Alex Lannon.”

He looked at her with half-lidded eyes. “I’m just holding you up…” he whispered.

“Not leaving you,” she said fiercely and started walking, supporting his weight and practically dragging him along.

They stumbled down the hallway past the Feasting Room. Noma scanned the inside of the room as they passed the doorway only to find Furiad standing over a fallen Gabriel. He was staring at his helmet as if he was debating whether or not to wear it.

Furiad glanced up briefly, noticing Noma as she dragged Alex past the entrance. He nodded ever so slightly, not moving an inch more, the helmet forgotten in his hand. And then the couple moved out of his line of sight.

 

Moments later, at the aerie’s entrance, the wind was howling as usual but the snow was lighter than before. Noma wasn’t keen on the idea of flying in such a mess, but it was their only way out. She was strong and quite capable of holding onto Alex’s solid body, but it wasn’t ideal if he was fading into unconsciousness.

“Alex!” she tried to get him to respond, jostling him. His eyes fluttered open again and tried to focus on her. He leaned heavily against her and tried to say, “I’m ok. Just do what you have to do.”

With a glance backward, she noticed an 8-Ball walking down the hallway, crossing one of the doorways. It didn’t notice her yet, but it was only a matter of time. All of the 8-Balls knew that she was a prisoner and not allowed to leave.

“Hold onto to me as much as you can, ok, Alex? This is going to be… rough,” She said to him. He tried to nod, but felt so exhausted that it looked more like his head was lolling about on its own accord.

Noma locked her arms around his torso and let her wings appear and stretch outward. They were fluttering with the harsh wind, so she relaxed them close to her body so that the airstream wouldn’t pick them up prematurely. Alex put his arms around her as much as he could, his face close to her neck. They took a few steps towards the edge and then without warning, Noma tipped them both over the edge.

Alex squeezed his eyes shut and held onto her tightly, feeling as if he were about to pass out in the process. As his heart raced, his stomach dropped as well as they fell. He really hated that plummeting sensation and wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to it no matter how many times an angel yanked him off of his feet.

The wind was forceful, immediately responding to Noma’s abruptly opened wings. It lifted them into the air, tossing them about as she tried to gain control over their flight path. They flipped around a few more times and she wondered if she was going to lose her grip on Alex. Her wings were aching against the cold resilient winds. Finally she shifted and was able to move them lower to the ground where the wind wasn’t as intense.

It was only then that she felt Alex’s strength disappear and his body becoming lax. He was no longer clutching her, making it unwieldy to hold onto him. He had lost consciousness, which worried her. What had happened? What had he done to Gabriel? How did he best a higher angel? An archangel at that? And somehow convinced Furiad to let them leave without a fight?

Noma glanced down at the Chosen One’s face, now resting against her shoulder. How could this fragile human be so resilient? Not for the first time was Noma in awe of him. She took a deep breath and looked out onto the blanketed white horizon, skimming low against the wind. It was going to be a long night and they needed to find shelter soon.

 

 


	14. Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! Happy reading!

The room felt hazy and dark as Michael sat painfully still. He could see Alex staring down at him and a thought of concern and perhaps even fear crossed his mind. Michael knew that those were Gabriel's thoughts as he had no fear of Alex, but he could see the look on the Chosen One's face and understood why Gabriel would.

Something strong and fierce crossed Alex's face. And then he appeared intently determined and spoke something that was indecipherable to Michael. But it was clear by Alex's countenance that there was power behind those words. Again fear spiked through him all of a sudden and he wondered what was happening.

And then, as if a weight was lifted, everything went dark for a moment and even the air seemed lighter. Michael's head felt woozy, but he no longer felt ill and the tightness in his chest disappeared. He felt alone again as his head started to right itself. Gabriel was gone and Alex had something to do with it. Michael was sure of it.

He opened his eyes to find Azrael staring at him with wide alarmed eyes. She was holding his face after she had pulled him close to her, placing his head onto her lap. Her wings were out for some reason, encircling them both. They had been cocooning them as if to shelter them from the wind, or perhaps, even the world. He knew that it was likely a reaction to his condition, and she probably hadn't noticed that they were out at all.

Michael blinked up at her and started to feel his body right itself, slowly going back to normal. It was such a relief as he took a deep breath. He wasn't sure how Gabriel had managed the link to him, but he had a feeling that their connection as siblings had a lot to do with it. Somehow Alex had stopped it and aided Michael. Despite everything, Alex had helped him. _Oh, Alex,_ Michael thought.

"Are you alright?" Azrael asked softly, stroking his face and pushing his hair back in a comforting manner. She had her guard down and was clearly distraught by the whole situation. Uncharacteristically, her face gave away her emotions and he surmised that she probably felt helpless sitting idly by as he had writhed in pain.

Michael didn't move for a moment, blinking up at her. He studied her worried face. _When did she get here?_ he wondered, realizing now that the passage of time eluded him. He began rubbing his tired eyes. "I'm alright. I think," he whispered and then slowly sat up, pulling away from her.

Her wings automatically moved out of the way. He glanced at them and that's when she became aware of their presence. Eyeing them briefly, she felt suddenly embarrassed and made them disappear. "I was worried, Michael." she said quietly, recovering quickly with a schooled passive expression. "You were in pain," she paused. "I don't like when you are in pain."

He knew that she didn't. He didn't like seeing her in pain either. She was on her knees next to him, almost as if she were waiting. Her hand twitched as if to reach out to him, to comfort him. Her energy was contained, but he knew she was ready to spring into action if needed.

Reflecting on what had just occurred, he sat there with his profile to her. That attempt at possession had been a bold act on his brother's part. Evidently, Gabriel was searching for his whereabouts. Or perhaps he wanted to use Michael for a new plan of his? The focus on the Seattle Needle logo had been intent and his brother gleaned exactly where he was at the moment. How was it possible that Gabriel could even attempt possession of Michael? Surely, Gabriel couldn't get any stronger? Michael cringed at the possibility. And yet Gabriel _had_ grown more adept in his abilities.

And so had Alex.

"Gabriel was trying to possess me," he said sternly, and with dismay.

Azrael bristled. She hated all of the possession nonsense. "Damn it. Possessing higher angels? Archangels no less? Disgusting."

"I think Alex helped me. They were in the aerie," he said softly. "I hope he was able to escape after that. By the time I fly there…it would be too late to help him."

"Alex?" Azrael stilled. "He's figured out the tattoos?"

"I'm not sure." Michael turned to look at her. "I only know that he was able to help me. I watched him through Gabriel's eyes."

"It works both ways? Possession?" Azrael seemed surprised.

"I think only because we were once connected, Azrael." Michael pondered on it, pulling his knees up and resting his elbows on them. "I have a feeling that this is just the beginning. For Alex, I mean." He paused, a feeling of pride welling up in his chest. "He appeared so…Alex looked as if he had purpose, as if he had strength. And determination. He stood up to Gabriel in a formidable way."

Azrael didn't move, thinking about Raphael and his plans. Michael was supposed to help end this war, but it wasn't as simple as that and she knew it. But this… this might hasten their plans. The Chosen One was getting stronger.

"Could you feel what Gabriel felt?" she asked quietly, previously wondering the same thing about Raphael when he had possessed Uriel.

"Yes. Anger. And frustration," Michael said softly and turned to her, studying her. She was looking off into the room, concentrating on something. "It is what I often feel. If I can really understand what that means."

She glanced at him. "I think we have been away from Home too long," she said without any emotion, her face empty of expression.

He stared at her and then a small smile played on his lips. He had missed her so, all of these years. And now she was here again. She didn't move, but her expression softened slightly in reaction to him. Sitting on her knees, in her full soldier gear, she looked ready for a fight, body slightly poised like a cat.

It was something he admired in her. But she had said he looked similarly before. So perhaps it was an angelic trait. He slowly got on all fours and moved closer to her, stopping just shy of her body and in one motion, sat on his knees and took her face in both of his strong hands and pulled her into a deep kiss.

Although she hadn't expected his actions, she immediately reacted to his touch, leaning into him as he pulled her against his body. She slipped her arms around his torso and let him continue to run his fingers through her hair and cup the back of her neck, holding her close to him as they kissed slowly but deeply.

He wanted to be near her, close to her, meld with her. Surviving such a trial of mental exhaustion only brought more questions and confusion, and all he wanted was to seek out comfort from her. Comfort from all that was happening in this strange world. Far from Home.

And she felt like Home to him.

Michael felt the pull between them. Whatever that was. He couldn't understand it. He knew that it was different from what he had felt for a certain human female many years ago. That had been a special experience that he had not thought about in a long time. And the connection with Becca was an entirely different matter all together. He wondered if what he felt for Azrael was the same _something_ that Becca had wanted from him. Michael _had_ felt for the human woman and couldn't help how he physically felt when he was with her and the other women. But with Azrael…the connection was distinctive. Something not quite physical. It felt as if his chest might burst upon seeing her, and it lit a fire inside of him. He wasn't sure what it was nor did he comprehend why it happened.

But he knew he wanted to be close to her. Pull her into his arms, hold her, protect her…even though he knew that she didn't need his protection. She was quite capable of taking care of herself. Azrael was powerful and yet comforting. And he needed her.

She kissed him with as much passion as he gave her and ran her fingers across his lower back. It was easy to fall into Michael's embrace and she leaned into his body, wanting to be as close to him as possible. She ran her fingers over his bare torso and wondered how he had so much power over her.

As much as she preferred to be immune to such desires, Azrael found that she had trouble remaining distant from him. It had been torture being away from him for all of those years in the Cradle. She had known that she cared for him eons ago in their home of light, but she never understood why. Even back then, it had bothered her when they were separated or given different tasks. And when she was sent to Earth to carry out His will, she would have rather remained at Michael's side, policing the other lower angels. She would have preferred assisting him whenever she was allowed to, but often she was pulled in a different direction. Often they were given drastically diverse 'Chores.'

Since they had remained on Earth for so many years following Father's disappearance, she was beginning to experience strange things that she had not at Home. Pesky overwhelming things. Things that made no sense. Things such as…emotions. They were often dormant (or easily quashed), but upon seeing Michael, they awoke and frequently colored how she saw him. He stirred something inside of her and it frustrated her for some reason. She couldn't grasp what they were really, but now…now she had him back in her sight, all for herself and she had no desire to bring him to Raphael. Nor did she want to reveal him to anyone else.

But Gabriel knew now where Michael was hiding himself and so did the Chosen One. And soon the small reprieve from the world was going to be long gone. Azrael let out a mutter of frustration against Michael's soft lips. He paused and then pulled away from their kiss, smoothing her hair away from her face and looking down at her. His expression was passive except for the concern behind his blue eyes.

"You are…distracted," he stated quietly. He held onto her still, but he sought her face for any clues to her distant behavior.

She tried to smile, but faltered. "I am…worried."

"About Gabriel?"

"About you," she said. "And the Chosen One." Sighing, she pulled away from him with reluctance. Standing up, Azrael moved across the room with frenetic energy. The gear she wore was starting to irritate her. The Kevlar vest worn mostly for show was not as easy to move in as she would like and the swords that she hated to leave behind often clashed with the weight of the guns she carried.

But these were just distractions. She fiddled with a gun holster as she debated on how much she wanted to delve into. "Your plan for him… has it gone the way you had hoped?"

Still on his knees, Michael didn't move as he studied her without blinking. She knew he was trying to decipher what she was getting at, patient as always. "You know it has not," he said without emotion.

Sighing, she focused on him and mirrored his stillness. "Perhaps it is time to adjust your plan."

"It has already been derailed, Azrael," he said quietly with an undertone of frustration.

She knew she was treading lightly on the sore subject. Unmoving, she studied him. What was she to do? Bring him to New Delphi as Raphael desired? Or help Michael find the Chosen One before Gabriel found him once more?

"What do you know, Azrael?" Michael finally blinked as he gazed at her, his head tilting just slightly.

She paced for a moment, thinking.

He sighed when she didn't respond. Standing up, Michael moved past her and sat on his bed. He felt extremely exhausted all of a sudden as he tried to remain upright, as if all of his energy was drained out of him.

Azrael stood in front of him, hands on her sword hilts. She was still debating as she watched him run his fingers through his tousled hair. Something about that motion reminded her of their time together back Home.

"You know something." Michael's tired voice broke her reverie. "And you don't want to alarm me? Or you have something else planned. Perhaps with Gabriel." It was deadpan and emotionless.

And it caught her off guard.

Azrael blinked, gathering her thoughts. He had never questioned her loyalty in the past, and she had never given him reason to question it. "With Gabriel? No." Azrael said, sternly. "I would never."

He looked up at her, the exhaustion showing clearly on his face. "Then what is it? What is that you fear to tell me?" he said.

Azrael sighed, "I am not afraid to tell you anything. I am debating as to what is the right course of action. For you. For the Chosen One."

He didn't move, weighing her words. The distrust in everyone around him made him wary. She looked genuinely shocked that he would think she was in league with Gabriel, but Azrael was also an actor, capable of deceit if needed.

She fell into a soldiers' stance, hands clasped behind her, despite the cumbersome sword hilts and gun holsters. "You have forgotten that there are other players involved in what once was your plan. And things have changed. Evolved. New Delphi has structure now which was not possible a few years ago."

Michael stood up, his body tense as he loosely mirrored her. "That sigil is for New Delphi. And what of Helena? Did they run you out? Did they discover who you were?"

"No, but your sister did. Uriel found a way to dispose of me."

"Uriel?" Michael felt heated again. "She was in Helena?"

"She was there for some time," Azrael said, not surprised that he didn't know. Uriel was known for her twisted tactics, although Michael never saw his sister in that light. "And she made sure that Queen Evelyn would do away with me."

"Evelyn? She's in league with her? Does she know that Uriel is an angel?" Michael asked, fiercely, fists clenched.

"I do not know."

"And that's why you ended up in New Delphi," he paused, mulling things over. "There are a few hidden in New Delphi, but I'm sure if they've moved on by now."

"There is one that you do not know of, I'm sure of it," Azrael said quietly, carefully.

His gaze was unwavering, as if he could drill a hole through her head with it alone. "Gabriel has a strong hold on New Delphi."

"Actually, no. Not Gabriel." Azrael's lips quirked up into an amused smile.

Michael's head tilted slightly. "Who then?"

Azrael sighed, knowing that their reprieve was officially over.

"I suppose the Chosen One will have to continue to fend for himself," she said, stepping closer to him. "Perhaps it's time for a little trip, Michael."


	15. Flight and Fury

The biting wind was searing through Noma as she tried to remain in the air on their harried flight out of the aerie. The Chosen One was lax in her arms and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep him safe. They just needed to get out of the mountainous area and lower down where the wind was less erratic. Noma's wings felt the biting cold slowly seeping in.

Her vision cleared for a moment as the flurries lessened and she could see a long ledge jutting out of the sheer mountain they had been flying over. Her inability to gain altitude made the flight exhausting and treacherous. Aiming for the outcrop, Noma tightened her grip on him and pulled her wings in a little to direct her course. Holding her breath, she hoped to not overshoot the landing and slam into the grey rock wall. With great difficulty, she slid onto the outcrop and quickly closed her wings, tightening them against her back before the wind yanked her back off the ledge. Instead of gaining a steady foothold, her legs tangled with Alex's and they both ended up prone on the snow-covered ledge.

Noma's arms felt as if they were cramping from clutching Alex's body so close to hers, yet she couldn't loosen her grip, holding him even closer as they lay in the snow. She was exhausted. Closing her eyes briefly, she leaned her forehead against Alex's. Where was she supposed to go? She knew they couldn't stay there long. They were out in the open and the elements were against them. The mountains went on for many miles and she knew she needed to fly to lower altitudes where it was warmer. And safer.

Her wings stayed close to her body, feathers ruffling in the wind. They were aching, and she wished she could stretch them out and rest longer. Curving one wing out a little, she sheltered Alex's body from the weather's onslaught for few moments. Looking down at him, she loosened her grip and checked his pulse. His body was getting colder to the touch, with his face pale and his breathing shallow and uneven. Whatever he had done, he had over-exerted himself. It frightened her and she didn't like it.

"Alex?" her voice got lost in the howling of the wind. She patted his face lightly, hoping that he would wake. His eyes were stirring under his closed lids, as if he was trying to reach the surface of consciousness. "Alex…"

His eyes opened a little and his hand moved, weakly touching her. He tried to speak but nothing came out as she caressed his cheek. And then he slipped away again, leaving her alone with her worries.

"Damn it." she said to herself and then pulled him closer, sharing some of her body warmth momentarily. Leaning her head against his, she whispered to him, "Hang on, Alex. Stay with me."

Gathering strength, she sat up, pulling the Chosen One's body into a better grip. And then with one last-ditch effort, she launched the two of them directly off the ledge, tumbling out into the air with her wings stretched wide. As planned, the wind immediately yanked them upwards, lifting them higher. Within moments they were flying through clouds and Noma pushed higher and higher. Hoping to get above the cloud line, she knew the risk that she was taking. Alex's condition might worsen, but getting to safer ground without crashing took precedent over her fears.

"Just hang on, Alex. Hang on." Noma's voice got lost in the wind.

 

* * *

 

An ornate chair flew through the air and smashed into the rock wall in the Feasting Room of Gabriel's aerie. The wood splintered and practically shattered to pieces as it fell into a heap on the floor. A glass plate followed it, causing shards of glass to also decorate the floor. A goblet of wine clattered to the floor and wine splattered over everything.

"HOW?" Gabriel's voice boomed and echoed throughout the aerie.

He was standing next to a table with clenched fists and a furious sneer on his face. He was seething and practically rabid with spittle escaping his lips.

Furiad stood a good distance from him, wearing the helmet that he had been contemplating earlier. He stood there watching the archangel in silence with his hands clasped in front of him and his wings put away. But he was at the ready, in case he needed to defend himself. He kept waiting for the archangel to finally turn on him, to place blame on him.

Gabriel had been raging for quite a while. Crumpled on the floor, the almighty archangel Gabriel had been a sight to see. Furiad had tried to help him up, but the archangel was adamant that he could do it himself. And once he got his bearings, the fury began.

"That dumb fool," Gabriel growled. He tried to rein in his anger, but he felt stupid for being bested by the damn Chosen One. The archangel slammed his fists onto the table, which shuddered with the weight of it. Leaning forward onto his fists, Gabriel asked again, "How? How did he get that strong? When did that happen?"

Furiad didn't bother answering. He had already learned that Gabriel was angry with himself for not noticing the Chosen One's progress.

With another cry of frustration, Gabriel lifted the table and smashed it against the wall. Furiad stepped back another step, but otherwise didn't flinch. He was the only one who wouldn't. The others had fled a while ago. The 8-balls knew better than to be in the same room as Gabriel at the moment. Two unlucky ones had strayed into Gabriel's warpath in the beginning and he had crushed their windpipes before throwing them across the room. He was in no mood to deal with the lesser angels. And Roan was out on a mission. Conveniently. Leaving Furiad to deal with this…wrath.

Gabriel stood in the middle of the room, still breathing heavily, hands clenched into fists. He turned to Furiad and walked up to him, grabbing the warrior angel by his helmet. It took every effort not to pull away or slam his wing into Gabriel's neck. Furiad had long since regretted his decision to side with Gabriel. And yet he remained here, still paying the price for his decision. Not that he quite understood Father's love for the humans. Their existence was still a blatant reminder of His disappearance. But Gabriel's strategy to bring Him back was failing so far. _At least Noma was able to leave_ , Furiad thought. At least there was that.

"You will go to Vega and you will find Claire and bring her here," Gabriel spat. "And then we will start Phase Two."

Furiad almost didn't answer, wanting to jerk away from the crazed archangel, but it would be easier to leave unscathed without antagonizing him.

"Do you hear me?" Gabriel was waiting for an acknowledgement, shaking Furiad out of his thoughts.

"Yes. Claire," he said quietly, trying to step away, but Gabriel continued to hold fast to his helmet.

"Furiad, without Claire, we have no leverage. Without that, the damn Chosen One will do whatever he wants. And now we know that does _not_ bode well for any of us!" Gabriel said, haughtily, practically spitting while saying it through half-clenched teeth.

"I understand." Patiently, Furiad waited for Gabriel to let go of his helmet. And when the archangel did, he was immediately in motion, trying to get as much distance from him as possible.

He would go to Vega. He would do what he was told, begrudgingly. But first, he had to take care of something else.

It was going to be a long flight.


	16. Zoo

Inside the Senate, angry voices overlapped as usual. No one was really listening to each other as they once again disagreed over the most basic decisions. The clamor of voices seemed to echo in Claire’s head. Sitting in her seat, slightly higher than the rest, sometimes gave her a better vantage point, and often seemed to make it easier to drown out the bickering. With her chin resting on her hand, Claire watched the other politicians volley back and forth.

And then it was time for David Wheele to take the floor. As usual, he stood in the center with all of the attention focused on him, choosing his words carefully as he tried to convince the others to make a deal with Helena. He was pushing for them to allow Arika to have some kind of standing among their policy-makers. His voice had droned on for far too long as far as Claire was concerned.

Claire was exhausted. The baby was draining the energy out of her, and most of the time she felt ill. Trying to focus took its toll. Glancing about the room, she noticed others yawning and shifting in their seats. Eventually, David had talked himself into a circle and turned his attention back to her. She sat up straighter and waited for whatever he was about to throw at her.

“So why don’t we put it to a vote, shall we?” David suggested in that commanding way of his. He smiled at her with clear determination behind those eyes. “Then we can put this to rest.”

“Or we can stop arguing about something that is already law,” Claire sternly suggested. “This is indisputable, as everyone here knows. The law already stipulates that only a member of a ruling House of Vega can be a V6.”

“And Arika could not become a member of her own House in Vega? Isn’t she already by virtue of being here, with the status she already has in Helena?”

“What is it that you gain out of this, David?” Claire asked, point blank. The room fell silent. “It’s clear that you somehow gain _something_ by aligning yourself with Helena and all that they have to offer. What is it? Is it _really_ in the best interest of Vega or is it really just in _your_ best interest?”

“Yes, I’d like to know that as well,” Senator Graywell chimed in.

Senator Julien also spoke up. “It seems you have a vested interest in this to continue to push for it.”

David shifted, and then switched gears. As usual he tried to weasel his way out of the conversation, giving Claire a death glare in the process. She knew he hadn’t expected her to actually stand up for herself. “I think having an ally with the war capabilities such as Helena would be in our best interest. You never know when Gabriel decides to come back or if the Camp decides to attack Vega.”

A hush fell over them again.

“The Camp? Why would you think they would attack us?” another senator asked. “There have been no reports of anything like that. If anything, New Delphi would be an aggressor. They are all lawbreakers there…but the Camp? They are far out into the wilderness and no where near capable of attacking Vega.”

David tilted his head, trying to pretend to not look skeptical, but it was clear that he had an agenda. “So the rumors go. I’ve heard a myriad of things and I think Vega should always be prepared for the worst case scenario. Don’t you?” 

“And giving the leader of a different settlement power in our own city would be ‘preparing’ ourselves?” Claire scoffed. “You might as well give Arika the keys to the nuclear reactor doors.”

The others agreed with her and David could see he was starting to lose his audience. He glared at her once more, briefly, as if he were trying to tell her to agree with him or else. But Claire was over his strong-arm methods, having dealt with him enough for the past few weeks. She was finally done with being frightened of him or anyone else. And even though she felt sick and tired most of the time, there was a strange strength that was growing inside of her as well. As if her child was giving her power and purpose. As if, just maybe, she was built to be a leader. To be the one calling the shots. Maybe.

“I think this matter is closed. Let’s put _that_ to a vote,” Claire said carefully, her voice ringing through the room, and overpowering David’s sad attempt at regaining his position of the floor. 

“All those in favor of laying this matter to rest?”

The room unanimously echoed, “Ay.”

With a venomous look, David stared up at Claire who stood on the dais. Her own steely glare responded in kind.

 


	17. Rêve

“Alex!”

The night was cold as the wind blew through Noma’s tangled hair. Her feathers twitched as her wings cocooned their exhausted bodies. They were lying in the middle of a sandy courtyard outside of a rundown roadside motel. The desert sand was kicking up around them, coating her dry mouth with grit every time she took a breath. Alex’s complexion looked grey and Noma was in tears as she tried to muster up the strength to drag him inside.

“Alex, please wake up,” she pleaded quietly as she rested her forehead against his. She closed her eyes and the unshed tears slid down her face as she held him close. She could hear his heartbeat, but it was slower than before and she knew that if she couldn’t bring him inside, into the warmth, he might not make it through the night.

The flight had been treacherous and their sudden pit stop in front of the motel was crucial. Noma’s wings had suddenly decided that enough was enough, almost giving out on her and stranding them in the middle of nowhere. She had tried to get them to the nearest town, but her body wasn’t complying. Instead, she aimed for the only building she had seen for miles, crash-landing with a painful tuck and roll, coating both of them with sand and bruises.

Breathing heavily, Noma rested for a moment, trying hard to stay conscious. The full moon above seemed to mock them both as it beamed down on their prone bodies. The cold breeze blew by once more. Her teeth started to chatter and she knew that it was now or never.

Letting go of Alex, she pushed herself upright so that she sat on her knees. Blinking away the last of her tears, she told herself to _suck it up_. Noma knew she was exhausted and that it made it hard for her to think clearly, but she knew what to do. Shaking out her wings for a moment, she closed her eyes and mouth as sand and desert debris shook free from her feathers. She stretched her aching wings out to their full spans and then let them droop, resting them momentarily. Holding her breath for a second, she pulled them close to her back and made them disappear. They needed to rest and repair themselves.

Looking down at the prone Chosen One, Noma picked up one of his arms and pulled the unconscious man upright into a seated position. Quickly, she put both of her arms around his torso, just under his arms, and started dragging him towards the building. Her new-found energy gave her enough strength to move him for a few minutes. But with each passing moment, Alex became heavier and heavier. She stopped at the closest motel room door, trying to hold him upright while turning the doorknob.

Only to find that the door was locked.

Noma sat down, her head resting against the door. She looked down at the man she was holding and gently touched his face. “Alex…” she whispered. 

* * *

_Alex…_

The sky was practically purple and the air was cold and biting. The trees swayed as the wind blew through them and Alex’s hair ruffled about his face. It was longer than before as if he hadn’t had a haircut in a long time. His face was bruised and there was a small cut under his left eye. The scruff on his face made him look older as did his weary eyes. His jaw was clenched as if he was fighting off a wave of emotions. Anger and frustration. Sadness. All roiling through him.

He stood motionless in the middle of a wild green field. A field on top of a small hill. A hill among rolling hills that stretched out as far as his eyes could see. Behind him was a dense forest. A forest that was glowing with a fiery ember.

Alex stared out across the hills. The green stretched on forever. His hand started cramping and he adjusted his grip. Looking down, he noticed the sword that he was holding in his hand. It was covered in a rust-red substance and the jacket he wore was soiled with dirt and splattered. More red.

Something winged was coming towards him, barely noticeable, off in the great distance. The sky above was filling with grey clouds, with smoke blazing up from the burning forest behind him. And then his focus shifted.

He noticed bodies strewn about, lying in the green grass. More bodies could be seen, spreading out from where he stood. And then he started to notice that the grass wasn’t really all that green. Splotches of reddish-brown covered the grass in front of him. Glancing around, he saw the ominous hue covering the hill that he was standing on. And then the next hill over. And the next one after that. The entire distance was covered in a reddish-brown.

And then he eyes landed on something else.

A body lay in front of him. A familiar body.

He stepped forward to take a closer look. The body’s black wings were bent at an odd angle. One of which was bloodied and hacked in two. “No…” Alex said in despair as he dropped to his knees, letting go of the sword and lifting one of the wings to reveal the angel’s face.

A gasp and cry of pain escaped Alex as he dropped the wing and scrambled backwards. He stared at Michael’s blank face. The archangel almost looked as if he were sleeping. His eyes were closed with an oddly peaceful expression, despite the smattering of dried blood on his skin.

Alex covered his mouth, dreading what he was seeing. Did he kill Michael? Was he really dead? What was happening? Where the hell was he? And then he glanced at his shaking hand. It was caked in dried blood and dirt. Horrified, he stared at both of his sullied hands and then tried to wipe them clean on his soiled jacket.

The winged shadow in the sky was getting closer. Alex glanced up and then grabbed the sword, fumbling about, trying to stand up and defend himself. How did he get here? What was this? He could hear the wings as the angel approached, getting ever closer. Alex craned his head upward, suddenly feeling numb and detached as the angel dropped down in front of him, leaving Michael’s body as the only thing between them.

The giant angel was shrouded in shadows and Alex couldn’t quite see what he looked like, as if the edges were a little blurry and the angel’s face was a dark void. But there was something familiar about this being. And there was a smugness that radiated off of him as his head tilted down towards the Chosen One. The overly tall angel was barefoot and dressed in strange garb, as if from another time, including elaborate gilded armor. An oversized sword hilt could be seen sticking out from between his dark purple wings. They were still out and visible, yet neatly tucked against his back. Feathers ruffled lightly in the passing breeze.

Alex’s heart hammered away in his chest as he clutched his own sword’s handle. There was a rage that was swiftly burning through his body. “What do _you_ want?” Alex’s words tumbled out of his mouth as if they were not his own.

“You have done so well, I’ve come to congratulate you.” The angel’s peculiar lilting voice rumbled and crackled and seemed to reverberate deep into Alex’s bones. It sounded familiar to him, as if he had spoken to this angel before. “I knew that you would come around to my way of thinking.”

“This is your doing, not mine!” Alex spat out. Again the words came from his mouth without thought. His knuckles were white with the strain of keeping himself under control. Alex felt odd and not quite sane.

The angel sighed dramatically and looked down at Michael’s body. “And I suppose, this is my doing as well?” He nudged Michael with his bare foot.

“Why are you here?” Alex asked without hesitation, suddenly confused. “You don’t exist here…not anymore…”

The angel’s head snapped up, glaring at Alex with sudden fervor. Alex still couldn’t quite see his face, but he felt the intensity roiling off of him. “I exist, and you would do best to remember that, oh, _Chosen One_ ,” he said with distain.

Alex felt suddenly paralyzed as if all freewill was stripped away from him. The imposing being in front of him seemed to enjoy Alex’s sudden predicament and with a small kick to Michael’s side, he stepped over the prone archangel’s body. Taking a few steps closer to Alex, the shadows started to clear, making his face noticeable and pronounced.

“I’m so proud of you,” he drawled as he moved fluidly closer.

And then Alex was suddenly able to move again as the angel towered over him, grabbing his upper arms and grinning down at him. All breath flooded out of the Chosen One as he stared up at the angel’s face. The face that looked so very similar to his own. The face that had almost a gleeful mocking sneer as he stared back at him. It was as if the angel was an older, darker, smugger, unhinged version of Alex. The resemblance was uncanny. As if he could be…

His heartbeat thundered in his ears and fear chilled him as he yanked himself away from the oversized being. Pointing his sword at him, Alex yelled, “ENOUGH! This was _your_ doing, not mine. Not my doing.”

The dark angel tilted his head in a placating way. At first he had a stern expression and then a grin broke out over his face. “Take ownership of your deeds. Be pleased! The son of the Morning Star should be proud of his abilities. Proud of his accomplishments.”

Alex’s arm trembled as he held his sword out. He was confused. What the angel said made no sense to him. The sword seemed to weigh more and more with every passing moment. Alex squinted at the angel, as if he could somehow make sense of what he was seeing.

“Father?”

* * *

Alex jerked awake. His eyes wide and unseeing for a moment.

Blinking, his heart slammed against his rib cage as he tried to sit up, legs tangled in sweat-soaked sheets. Looking around, he found himself no longer on the bloody grassy knoll, but instead shirtless and barefoot in a dingy Motel 6 room. His bare chest heaved as he gasped for air and his hands shook as he tried to understand what just happened. Where was he? _That didn’t feel like an ordinary dream_ , he thought to himself.

“Noma?” he called out, confusion still not clearing. It was dark in the room and he fumbled about as he reached out to turn on the nearby lamp next to his bed. His hands kept shaking as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat there for moment, blinking into the brightness of the room. The dread that was in his bones wouldn’t leave him. The image of that tall dark angel grinning down at him seemed etched into his mind, casting doubt on all that he thought he knew was real.

_Who was that?_ he thought. His stomach responded by threatening to come up through his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he willed it to behave. Groaning for a moment, he ran his fingers through his hair and then rubbed his tired face. Why did he feel like he had run a marathon and simultaneously been squelched by a steamroller? His poor aching body protested with every move. Rubbing his eyes for a moment, he tried to remember where he had been before this room.

But all Alex could think about was that damn angel.

And then he froze mid movement. Pulling his hands away from his face, he studied them. His skin was clean and unsullied, but echoes of his dream made him blink twice, suddenly seeing the blood and dirt on his hands. His stomach turned again and this time he had to cover his mouth to keep from upchucking in the middle of the room.

 “Alex?” Noma’s concerned voice was thick was sleep.

He stood up, briefly glancing across the room to find her squinting into the light. She was sitting upright on an oversized sofa chair. Ignoring her completely, he moved swiftly through an open bathroom door and straight to the sink. He threw up what little stomach acid he had left in his body and then was racked with dry-heaves for a few more minutes. His body’s violent reaction also induced tears. After rinsing his mouth, he washed his face, trying to rid himself of the onslaught of the waterworks.

Blinking hard, he peered into the mirror to find Noma standing behind him with a look of concern. She was rigid and poised for action, her hands splayed out as if to steady him.

“Are you okay?” she asked, tentatively.

He stared at her with his mouth slightly open, as if words were about to spill out of his mouth. But then the tears welled up again, blurring his sight, and all he could do was swiftly wipe them away and close his mouth. Glancing back at himself, he saw the weary, tortured look on his face. He looked like a stranger to himself. At first, his reflection looked nothing like the dark angel in his dreams, and then suddenly that was all he could see. _That_ face was sneering back at him.

Horrified, Alex looked down, splattering his face with more water. He tried to get rid of the image, only to have it replaced with Michael’s prone and bloodied body. Tears welled up again and he sunk to his knees as his chest constricted. The cool Motel 6 bathroom tile was oddly soothing as he laid down on it. His body continued to tremble. Something was still not right.

Alex couldn’t feel his body anymore. It felt cold and numb. Detached. The tears continued to stream uncontrollably down his face as he finally looked up at Noma who rushed to be at his side. She got down on her knees in front of him. He couldn’t quite feel how she pulled him into her arms, gently running her hand over his face, wiping away the errant droplets.

Michael’s tortured face haunted him as the darker angel’s laughter echoed off the bathroom walls. Alex felt distant as if it were someone else sobbing on the bathroom floor. As if somehow something had finally broken inside of him and there was nothing to tether him to this world.

Noma held Alex’s shaking body and tried to soothe him. With each touch, she reminded him of himself, gently distracting him from the images of blood and hacked-off wings, bringing him closer to this reality. She held him close to her body, knowing that something terrible had affected him.

Something was definitely not quite right.


	18. From the Rafters

In the early hours of the morning, just after daybreak, the sky’s colors transformed over the city of Vega. Claire was already awake, standing on her balcony and taking deep breaths as she watched the sun light up the sky. The nausea woke her again that morning and although she felt exhausted, she couldn’t go back to sleep. Touching her lower abdomen, she wondered not for the first time if she was ready yet.

She missed Alex. And she wondered if she would ever see him again. The letter he had written was currently in her nightstand, hidden away among her personal things. That first night alone, she had read the letter three more times before finally putting it away to be kept safe for their unborn child. She closed her eyes for a moment, taming the unwanted tears that sprang to her eyes. The thought of Alex being at the mercy of the world out there, most likely at the mercy of the archangel Gabriel, made her want to weep like a child.

A shout roused her from her sullen thoughts and she opened her eyes to find herself looking down at an Archangel Corps troop running through the street below. The soldiers’ hurried manner was unusual and it alarmed her.

Going back inside her room, she quickly changed her clothes and readied herself to leave. As she opened her bedroom door, she found Ethan standing in front of her, dressed in full tactical gear and poised in mid knock.

“Lady of the City, you’re needed downstairs. A Consul was attacked,” Ethan sputtered out quickly, standing stock still and eyes wide with his hand still in mid air.

Caught off guard, Claire tried not to laugh at his expression. It took a moment for the meaning of his words to dawn on her. “What do you mean a Consul was attacked?”

He lowered his hand and sighed. “You need to see this,” Ethan said, quietly. His head tilted toward the hallway, silently encouraging her to follow him.

* * *

Standing in the middle of the courtyard, David Whele stared upward with his mouth slightly open. The shock on his face was clear to Claire as she walked towards him. The area was roped off by the Archangel Corps. Soldiers surrounded and secured the area, telling people to leave or keep their distance as they reacted to what they were seeing. Some people were reacting with fear and others with anger; all were reacting loudly.

Ethan led Claire to where David was standing and then stood guard nearby, acting on orders to keep the Lady of the City safe. Claire couldn’t stop staring at David’s pale face, almost not wanting to turn to whatever horrific thing he was looking at. She stood next to him and turned to look up at the spectacle that had made the Consul turn two shades lighter.

Hanging from the rafters of the nearby building were three bodies. Each body was strung up by the neck as if it were a public lynching. Signs were tied to each wrist with dripping red-brown ink, spelling out the ominous words: “End of Days.”

Claire covered her mouth, feeling suddenly nauseated. She tried to keep her bile down, breathing deeply and willing her body to cooperate.

“Consul Graywell, Romero and Julien. All plucked and strung up like rag dolls,” David said finally, after a moment of silence between them.

Claire lowered her hand after a moment of breathing normally. Her body calmed down as she wrapped her mind around what she was seeing. “Is that written in blood?” she said calmly.

“It appears so.” David shifted. He still looked unwell, but he was finally pulling himself together.

“This is the same spot that the angels were hung up,” Claire pointed out in a detached tone.

“Yes.” David pulled at his jacket and finally pealed his eyes away from the bodies, focusing on Claire. “And we’ll need to be on high alert. That is a warning. For all of us.”

Claire nodded, still staring at the bodies. “Ethan, we’re going to need to start an investigation, if it isn’t underway already. And then I need to speak to the security captain. We’ll be needing high security details for all of the Senate members.”

Ethan nodded, “I’ll go get him, Lady Claire.”

The wind picked up, giving them all a chill. And then the bodies began to sway a little. Claire closed her eyes and turned away, opening them only to find that David was studying her intently.

“I think this may be an important message. A warning for whatever he has planned,” David said, sternly.

“Gabriel?”

“Must be. We have to be open to the possibility that there may be an imminent attack,” David said in a hushed tone. There was a tinge of panic in his voice that Claire was sure he was trying to control.

“It’s always a possibility, David. You of all people should know that,” Claire said. “Perhaps William isn’t quite done with Vega.”

David’s eyes widened for a moment. “But William is dead, Claire.”

Claire studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing at his attempt to hide what she already knew was true. “I have my own eyes and ears in this city, David.”

David shifted, weighing his options. Claire could tell the wheels were turning. He was probably wondering how much she knew about William's departure. And then he leaned in, “I do too, Claire.”

She didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she leaned into him and quietly said, “If I find out that William had somehow found his way back into this city or has anything to do with this, it will be on you.”

Before David could respond to her, Claire walked away from him, moving towards Ethan and the security captain. She knew it was another small power play, leaving David to wonder yet again how she had obtained her information. She didn’t look back to see the frozen expression displayed on his face, nor did she see him cringe slightly as he glanced back up at the dangling Consuls on full display.


	19. Woken

_If only I could have a drink..._

The day had been grueling as Claire sat in the Senate and continued to listen to what was left of the rulers in Vega. She knew that they had to appoint others as replacement Consuls, but all she wanted to do was stop the bickering. It was giving her a perpetual headache.

It also didn’t help that growing a baby was taking its toll. The exhaustion was like nothing she had felt before. After closing the bedroom door and securing it from the inside, she didn’t bother to change out of her clothes as she crawled onto her bed and lay face down with an exhausted sigh. The Archangel Corps had doubled their sentry duty, especially for the heads of Houses and Claire knew that Ethan was currently standing outside of her door. A friend of Alex’s was keeping watch over her. It made her feel better somehow. Closer to Alex. Even if that made no sense at all.

Within moments, she was fast asleep with face smushed into her pillow, breathing deeply and letting her aching body rest. A few hours passed and there seemed to be a calm to the din outside of her window. The din that earlier had been Vega citizens protesting or plainly clamoring for any kind of support from Vega’s Senate. The quiet took hold and suddenly Claire jerked awake.

Her breath caught for a moment and her confused mind tried to make sense of where she was. And then she remembered the day she had and tried to reclaim her sleep, only to open her eyes once more. What had woken her? Something must have. Claire wasn’t sure if she was being paranoid, or if the strange warning bells going off in her head were actually on point.

And then suddenly, a heavy weight pressed down on the bed and hands grabbed her head, covering her mouth with a foul-smelling cloth. She struggled, making it hard to pin her down. Immediately using her elbows, she jabbed up and knocked the cloth away from her face. She scrambled off the bed and away from her attacker, loudly yelling out, “HELP! ETHAN!”

She scurried away as her attacker continued his onslaught only to be joined by a second man climbing in through the now open balcony doors. He was also dressed in all black with a facemask that only allowed his eyes to be seen. Claire almost froze in a panic as she looked at both of the advancing intruders in her room. Her brain raced as she tried to think of a way out of the situation. Glancing at the door, she saw that it was blocked by a chair shoved under the handle making it difficult for Ethan to barge in.

She could vaguely hear Ethan shouting through the door. “Lady Claire?!” There was a loud banging on her door as if someone was trying to break it. More voices were heard as walkies were used to call for backup.

In the meantime, one of the intruders lunged forward and tried to grab her once more. Immediately, her instincts kicked in and she fought back, all kicking and throwing of elbows. But the intruders were large men, and in moments, one of them pulled her upright and tightly held her arms to her body as the second man once again attempted to place the cloth over her mouth and nose. But feisty Claire leveraged both of her feet against the second man and pushed off, tipping the other guy backwards, and making them both stumble about while loosening his grip. Her tactics bought just enough time to give the soldiers a chance to finally get through the door.

Ethan and several other soldiers came barging in with guns drawn. Immediately, the intruders rushed toward the balcony doors, pulling at Claire. But she was resourceful, grabbing whatever she had nearby and hitting the man’s arm as she yanked herself away. Immediately, he let go and she scrambled to safety as they flung themselves over the balcony edge, using grappling lines to descend below.

Without delay, Ethan called out an alert on his walkie, sending others to pursue the suspects as the rest of the room was secured. Sitting wide-eyed on the floor, Claire gasped for air as she held her abdomen and attempted to calm down.

After a moment, Ethan kneeled down in front of her and patted her hand, awkwardly comforting her. “It’s going to be ok.”

She stared at the open balcony doors and then glanced up at Ethan. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re okay, Lady Claire.”

Claire sighed and looked at the broken bedroom door. Her stomach hurt and she wondered if her child was still fine. And then the shock set in. Someone had tried to kidnap her. Her eyes landed on the rag that was on the floor in front of her. One of the other soldiers picked it up, pausing to look at it. Claire said, shakily, “ Chloroform.”

Ethan nodded, “Not good.”

Claire remained seated on the floor as her hands shook. “I wish Alex was here,” she said more to herself, not realizing that she had said it out loud until Ethan looked at her and solemnly agreed. “Me too. Me too.”

* * *

The Med Wing was busy that night. There were many panicked people and quite a few soldiers who were hurt in the pursuit of the two intruders. The medical staff was rushing about, keeping track of the incoming patients and their various ailments, some more dire than others.

Claire sat upright on a raised table with one hand self-consciously draped over her lower abdomen. A saline drip had been set up to keep her hydrated as her body calmed down. Claire had been afraid to disclose her pregnancy to the emergency doctor. Only one doctor, her personal one, knew about her status and that doctor was on a house call, dealing with another serious matter. But when she went to the bathroom, the blood she found made her think of the worst. She immediately asked for a full check up and was reassured that both herself and her unborn child were fine. The bruises she currently had would superficial and would heal with time.

The doctor finished checking on her one last time before leaving her to attend other patients. She had reassured Claire that once the saline drip was finished, she could leave. Claire nodded and tried to relax as she sat waiting.

Moments later, while watching people come and go, she glanced across the room and noticed Arika being helped into the Med Wing by one of her high priestesses. Arika sat on one of the beds and closed her eyes, pushing away the blonde woman’s fussy hands.

Resigned to leave Arika alone, Laurel glanced Claire’s way and smiled in recognition. Immediately, the woman walked over, presumably to check on her. “I’m glad you are all right, Lady Claire. I heard that you were attacked and had been hurt.”

Claire shook her head, attempting to smile, “I’m fine. Just a few bumps and bruises.” She paused. “Is Arika hurt?”

“No, not hurt. She had a terrible migraine, however, so we decided to come here.” Laurel paused and leaned in as she lowered her voice. “And the idea of people being attacked was too much for her. I think she feels safer here.”

Claire nodded. “I understand the feeling.”

“I think the only way to feel safe is to be at home. Our security patrol would not allow for such occurrences.” Laurel paused and realized she might have over-stepped her bounds. “Offense not intended, Lady Claire!”

Claire studied her, trying to gauge the woman’s sincerity. “I’m sure you miss your home in times like these.”

“Helena is…very different. There is a different standard and code. Vega has many things to offer though, but home will always be home,” she said, wistfully. Focusing on Claire with intensity, she offered, “Perhaps you may visit Helena one day? Perhaps vacation for a time? It would be wonderful for the Lady of Vega to also understand our culture. If we are to partner with each other, yes?”

“That would be lovely. But it would have to be a long time from now. Vega is in dire need of leaders at the moment. I don’t see a vacation in my near future.” Claire patted her arm, lightly. “I can’t leave the city without a leader. I can’t abandon it during this time.”

“No, of course not.” Laurel nodded.

Claire slipped off the table in order to stand, carefully moving her arm with the IV attached. Laurel steadied her for a moment, her arm gently holding Claire’s elbow.

“Thanks,” Claire said as Laurel let go of her. “I hope you two stay safe. And that Arika feels better soon.” Claire nodded at Arika who responded with a smile.

A nurse stopped by and checked Claire’s chart. Pointing to her arm, she said, “Time to take that out.”

Laurel patted Claire’s shoulder and said, “Perhaps one day.”

Claire smiled half-heartedly at her and nodded. The nurse worked on her arm, gently removing the tape and taking the needle out. Claire made sure to keep her eyes averted by studying Laurel instead. With a smile, the priestess squeezed Claire’s other hand and then moved away, heading back to Arika who had been watching their exchange. There was something curious about the way Arika watched her. As if she were waiting for something.

“All done,” the nurse announced, dragging Claire’s attention back to her own situation. “You’re free to leave, if you wish, Lady Riesen.”

Claire nodded as the nurse moved away, already working on another patient. There was a part of her that didn’t want to return to her quarters, but she couldn’t sit in the Med Wing all night. And she definitely didn’t want to be scrutinized by Arika and her high priestess.

Feigning more strength than she had, Claire held her head high as she walked past the two women. “Be safe,” she said as she walked past them, keeping a small false smile plastered on her face. Both ladies nodded in return, murmuring similar sentiments.

Once she was out in the hallway, Claire released the breath she didn’t realized she was holding. A sense of gratitude and relief came over her when she discovered Ethan and another guard leaning against the wall. They were waiting for her in case she needed their assistance. Ethan offered her a small smile as he stood at attention and began escorting her down the hallway.

Glancing back briefly, she wondered how long it would be before another death in Vega would announce itself, and how soon before Arika would be invited to sit in the Senate room. Sighing, she turned her gaze forward and briefly squeezed Ethan’s arm. He glanced down and gave her a reassuring smile as they walked away from the Med Wing.

* * *

Evelyn remained still, sitting on the bed and looking rather annoyed. Uriel’s eyes followed Claire as she disappeared from the area. As soon as she was out of earshot, Uriel turned to her partner with a beaming smile and picked up Evelyn’s hands.

Her smile faded immediately, noticing Evelyn’s icy response. “What is wrong, my love?” she said, quietly, mindful of those moving around them.

The dark-haired queen studied her and finally responded with a clipped, “Apparently, it went well.”

“Yes. The baby is still alive. The heart rate is good.” Uriel squeezed her hands once more. “And _she_ will be fine.”

“What did you tell her?” Evelyn asked quietly, searching the blonde’s face for signs of deceit.

“That you had a migraine and wanted the safety of numbers. She believed me.” The blonde straightened, poised as if _she_ were royalty. “Do you not believe me, my love?”

Evelyn responded only in silence, quickly placing a smile on her face as a doctor approached. Uriel immediately stepped out of the away, allowing for the doctor to work. But her eyes never left Evelyn as she stood nearby, watching her like a hawk. 

Perhaps her royal lover wasn’t as satisfied as she had thought. It would not do well for the petite queen to begin acting on her own. She already knew more than she was letting on.


	20. Reunion

The day had been long and frustrating. Trying to bring civility to a settlement that had been formed on a no-holds-barred foundation was proving to be as difficult as Azrael had warned him of. Raphael had been more optimistic at the beginning of the endeavor, suggesting that the humans just needed some guidance. He remembered how Azrael stared blankly at him and then very abruptly grinned at him. It was the look of pure amusement at his naiveté. It was the first time in a long time that he had seen her show mirth.

The thought of it now was amusing. At the time, he had been aggravated by her lack of optimism. Walking up the stairs to his office, he ignored the two soldiers trailing him. They had been his official guard during a tour of one of the newer sections of the city that had fallen into line with the Oracle Corps. He needed to appear as strong as possible, but also just as human. Raphael knew that there were rumors floating about that he was anything but human, but why encourage them?

With a huff, he opened his office door and strode into it without pausing, slamming the door behind him with too much force. The anger he felt was bubbling out again. The archangel had been able to control it for the most part, but when in private, often it spewed outward. As if he had no more control of it. As if he needed to express himself before he blew up or fell apart at the seams. The pesky emotions seemed to get the better of him these days.

Without a moment’s pause, he yanked off his leather jacket and threw it onto the new desk that now decorated his office. A second later, the Kevlar was off too and he was leaning onto both fists, a growl rumbling in his throat. He was close to slamming his knuckles through the wood.

“Perhaps you would like a moment alone to demolish your desk in private?” Azrael’s amused voice permeated his thoughts.

Raphael jerked upright, feeling suddenly foolish for not having noticed his audience. _How sloppy,_ he thought. Glancing across the room, he found Azrael standing like a soldier would, lingering in the seating area near the enormous draped windows. She seemed relaxed; although she was dressed in her usual full battle gear, as if combat were on the immediate horizon. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough, my brother,” a familiar voice responded from the chair that faced towards the windows, hiding the occupant’s body away from Raphael.

Raphael felt confused for a moment as Michael stood up from the chair, revealing himself as he turned to smile at his brother. Blinking, Raphael’s mouth opened and closed once. And then he recovered himself. “You found him.”

“Indeed she did,” Michael said, taking a few steps closer.

Raphael took in the visage of his brother. It had been many years since he last laid eyes on him. And here he was, dressed in black with a long coat that might have been a bit worn around the edges. His hair was a bit longer than he remembered and there was a wariness in his brother’s eyes that perhaps wasn’t there before.

The memory of Michael’s pleading face from ages ago flashed into his mind for a moment. The pleading of a hurt angel who needed healing. Raphael had been angry with his sister for what she and Gabriel had done. However, stopping Michael’s rampage had been something that he himself had wanted to do. The archangel who had always been the healer, the peace-maker, the one that the others came to for comfort.

And look at him now.

The mercenary. The soldier. The one doling out tough love. Raphael wondered if Michael knew of his current station in this world, if Azrael had informed him of how far Raphael had gone to accomplish his goals. He was not so dissimilar to his sibling after all.

“You look so shocked, brother,” Michael commented, moving closer. “Has it been so long that you no longer wish to greet me? Have I changed so much?”

Raphael swallowed down his own thoughts and then smiled, reclaiming his calm visage. He pulled his tall brother into a hearty hug and then pulled back to look at Michael for a moment. “You have changed,” he said, pausing. “But then again so have I.”

“Haven’t we all?” Azrael chimed in, still standing off to the side with hands clasped behind her.

Raphael glanced at her and then gave her a curt nod. “Right.” He moved away from them and walked over to his desk, throwing himself down in his chair and propping his feet up in front of him.

Michael moved to stand across from him, his own hands now clasped behind him in that typical half-relaxed pose of his. Raphael always admired how his brother looked both ready for anything and yet completely at ease. Yanking open one of the drawers in his desk, he pulled out a bottle whiskey. It was one of the few that he had stashed for days like these. Not bothering with a glass he took a swig and then put it on the desk, offering it to Michael.

Michael didn’t move, sharing a small glance with Azrael.

Raphael often wondered what was between them. They had always been close, much to the annoyance of Uriel who was not overly fond of Azrael. “So where were you all of this time, Michael? Rumors have circled that you left Vega in shambles? Left the Chosen One out there on his own?” he tried to keep his questioning light, trying hard to stifle his eagerness. Years of manipulating and pretending to be something else made it easier, but he had a feeling that Michael would see right through that.

Michael finally blinked and shifted. It appeared that his brother was uneasy himself. “Yes. Things did not…go as planned. Alex ended up seeking Gabriel’s counsel.” Michael glanced at Azrael again who didn’t move. She was as stoic as usual.

Raphael took another swig of whiskey and waited for a moment.

“It appears he might be leaving Gabriel. Might have left him.” Azrael chimed in, her voice even as she finally blinked.

“And how would you know that? Have you been in touch?” Raphael said, dropping his legs down and sitting upright with his proper stature.

Michael hesitated, not quite wanting to tell his brother of the situation.

“What aren’t you telling me, brother?” Raphael said evenly. The anger was again starting to churn inside of him. “You have another plan, do you not? Tell me that everything you’ve been doing isn’t completely wasted? Tell me that the Chosen One isn’t completely lost to us?!”

Azrael moved suddenly, making Raphael aware of his own body. He found himself out of his seat and leaning heavily across the desk, glaring fiercely at Michael. His wings had suddenly sprouted as if they were on the offensive, or perhaps he subconsciously released them in order to intimidate his brother and make himself appear larger. Raphael’s hand gripped the desk, cracking the edge of it and causing a small fissure down the middle.

_When had that happened?_ He glanced over at Azrael and noticed that she had drawn her sword, although she hadn’t aimed it at him quite yet. Quietly, she studied him as he slowly straightened himself. He stretched his wings out to their fullest and Azrael side-stepped out of the way, giving him the needed space.

As usual, Michael remained motionless. His face was the only thing that might have betrayed him for an instant, gazing at Raphael with concern, rather than hostility. “Calm, brother…” he said quietly, his hands splayed out in a placating way. “I don’t remember you having such a temper…”

“It wasn’t always like this,” Azrael said in a hushed tone.

Raphael glared at her. And then he took a deep breath, letting go of the desk and closing his eyes for a moment. He took a step back and tucked his wings away. After a moment, he looked at Michael once more with a blank expression. “Let me try this again,” he said, pausing. “Where is the Chosen One? Did he really choose to join Gabriel?”

“It was part of a ploy. But it failed.” Michael sighed. “I failed. Failed to see what was happening right in front of me.” He swallowed hard, looking down at the desk in front of him. “I’m not quite sure what happened after I left Vega. Alex must have felt the need to get closer to Gabriel, despite everything that happened. I was hoping it meant he had found a way to bring an end to our brother’s tyranny.”

“While you hid away?” Raphael spat out.

Michael’s head snapped up, eyes blazing at his brother. “I was not hiding!”

Raphael snorted. “Then what _were_ you doing all this time?”

“Drinking.” Azrael chimed in, sheathing her sword.

Michael shot her a glare.

“Drinking? Truly?” Raphael looked dumbfounded. “I’ve been hearing rumors about the Big Archangel Michael having fled a terrible scene in Vega. The _big all-important_ _Archangel,_ who founded and helped the damn mega settlement become what it is today, was ousted from its city walls, and all you did was hide and drink? All while –“

“-it wasn’t like that…” Michael tried to respond, but Raphael continued, clearly furious with him.

“-I’m trying to fix things in this horrid place. Did you know they kill each other here for amusement? As a way to initiate someone into their little twisted version of a family? Did you? While you’re playing as the angelic savior of Vega, I’ve been trying to _actually_ save these humans from themselves! And yet you’re just –“

“Raphael, I was not hiding-“

”-sitting in a room with a bottle. Drinking away the last of the alcohol on this Earth. All for what? What was the point of _saving_ the _Chosen One_ if you’ll just allow him to give himself over to Gabriel? GABRIEL?? Of all of us, why to him? And you? You did nothing? You just… abandoned him?”

“I did no such thing!” Michael looked stricken, his own emotions starting to show on the surface.

“And abandon us? You left us all to help the humans and forgot about your own brethren. You abandoned everyone. And now you’ve abandoned your own Chosen One!” Raphael spat out. The fury and frustration finally spewed out of him, aimed directly at its source. He had barely been able to contain it all these years, with Azrael usually putting him in his place. But this…this was the last straw! Seeing Michael here, whole. And with no plan.

“I didn’t abandon you! I didn’t abandon Alex!” Michael yelled back at his brother. “I would never abandon him. I just…I tried to save him…”

“Save him? You left!” Raphael balled his fists. “You left him to his own devices. You were supposed to guide him, remember? Wasn’t that your plan? All along? Wasn’t that what we were all working toward? That he choose the right path? To learn the scripture on his body? To finally fix what has been broken?”

“Yes, but I have guided him! I have!” Michael felt tongue-tied, his own fists clenched as Raphael suddenly flew at him, grabbing him by the jacket lapels and slamming him against the wall.

“Then where is he, brother? Where is he?” Raphael growled into his taller sibling’s face. “And why would you leave him unaided? Why??”

Azrael stood rigidly. She didn’t enjoy it when they fought and wanted to intervene, but she knew that they would have to work this out for themselves. It wasn’t the first time Raphael and Michael were at odds.

“I was trying to…I knew if I didn’t…I was…” Flustered, Michael paused, his body rigid.

“What could be so important to leave him alone?”

“I was trying to _prevent…_ ANOTHER FLOOD!!!” Michael yelled. His ire finally escaped him as he fiercely shoved Raphael away.

Raphael’s wings sprung out in time to halt his impending collision with the wall behind his desk. Unscathed, his mounted sword remained neatly on the wall. The archangel landed lightly and put away his wings. Staring at his brother, he crossed his arms for a moment, regaining some semblance of control over himself. “So you lost control again?” he asked, aware of his own lack of control.

Michael chose his words carefully. “I was betrayed, Raphael. And I was furious. But I did not intend to hurt…to kill... the way that I had. And Alex… he reminded me of what…he stopped me from continuing.”

“And so you left.” Raphael said with finality.

Michael didn’t move. His jaw clenched again. “I removed myself from his life in order to save him from… from myself.”

Raphael studied him for a moment. “And he chose to go to Gabriel of his own volition.”

“It appears so.”

“Or perhaps the Chosen One has a plan of his own.” Azrael chimed in.

Raphael glanced at her, noticing how both hands were gripping sword hilts. This was not how he had imagined Michael’s return to the task at hand. His brother was usually able to see beyond the usual scope of things. But perhaps Michael was bested by his own tenuous grip on rage.

Sitting down abruptly, he sighed and then leaned back and kicked up his feet once more. In true blasé fashion, he rubbed his chin and stared blankly at his untethered brother.

Michael stood still with balled fists and clenched jaw while Raphael suddenly appeared completely emotionless, flippant even. It threw Michael off completely. However, Azrael had seen Raphael do this before. It was a diversionary tactic. He had said his part and emoted enough that it drained him, and this was his way to retreat.

Raphael propped his chin up and summed up everything, “So Gabriel played you,” he said with a fake western American accent. “He played you like a fiddle.”

Azrael rolled her eyes, but no one noticed. Michael was still too busy glaring at his brother. “Stop taunting him, Raphael.”

Michael practically growled, “He did no such thing.”

“He did, Michael.” Azrael took a moment to sit down now, feeling restless and foolish for standing there as if she were a referee during a tennis match. “And now we are here. Let’s move on and figure out what Alex could have done and where he could have gone. Back to Vega? To find Claire?”

Michael glanced at the warrior archangel. She was, as usual, straight to the point. His hands were still clenched, but he took a breath and then walked to the window across the room. He needed a moment to calm down. To think.

“He would return to Vega. Yes. For Claire. And in doing so, he will put her in jeopardy.” Michael said over his shoulder and then willed himself to be calm, overriding his other impulses.

Raphael stared at Azrael who remained sitting, poised on her seat. “He will not like what he finds in Vega,” Raphael said quietly.

Michael turned back to him, rigid and concerned. “What do you mean? Has something happened?”

Raphael looked at him, “Politics, brother. Politics.”

Azrael sighed. “Which means, violence.”

“Yes, always violence.”


	21. New Addition

Just outside the Senate, Evelyn waited on a bench, poised and calm. She felt as if the world was in her hands. Things were moving forward as planned, and as fortune would have it, Vega’s leaders would be welcoming her into their bosom in mere moments.

She glanced over at her companion and sighed. The archangel in disguise looked poised as well, but Evelyn knew Uriel’s behavior. She was pretending to be unaffected by the current state of affairs. As if their plans weren’t finally coming together.

“You could be more excited, my love,” Evelyn whispered, knowing fully that Uriel could hear her clearly. “You look as if you are restraining yourself.”

Uriel didn’t react at first, staring at the Senate doors. Inside, the senators were still debating on the status of Arika in their community. When she did turn, she had a mild expression on her face, as if she were trying for serene, but missing a step.

“I’ve told you once before that dealing with my family is much more than a flirtation, Evelyn,” Uriel said, in a hushed tone.

“Do not call me that in public,” Evelyn hissed.

“It seems as if you don’t understand what is going on,” Uriel responded, gazing at Evelyn with a look of restrained emotion. “My brother is ruthless. Both brothers can be.”

“You seem to underestimate me, my love,” Evelyn smiled at her and touched her blonde tresses.

Uriel shook her head. “You _over_ estimate your ability to convince.”

Evelyn’s smile faded. “You’re angered because I have taken matters into my own hands. I’ve told you before that I will always serve Helena, even if it comes at odds to your own agenda.”

Uriel sighed, resigned, and turned back to watch the doors with her expression once again feigning serenity. “And so it will be.”

Evelyn smiled again, patting Uriel’s hand. “It will work as it should. Just as this will.”

* * *

“This is for the best of Vega!” David exclaimed, his face flushed with ire.

The Senate roared again in upheaval.

“But if she joins-“

“-her interests are not _our_ interests-“

“-we need the support, we need allies-“

The voices were dizzying and David knew that eventually they’d see to reason. It was just taking far too long. And they couldn’t afford the wasted time.

“Listen! QUIET!” David yelled, trying to get their attention once more. He stood in the middle of the Senate floor and slowly rotated, noticing the heated discussions. Some yelled at him and others at each other. The Senate had become unhinged after finding three of their own strung up and hung out to rot for all of Vega to see. David’s stomach had been in a constant state of turmoil since he witnessed Graywell’s dead stare. His desire to drink every morning would soon be problematic if he couldn’t get a handle on himself.

He glanced up at the Lady of the City and knew that she was under duress as much as he was. She sat upright, poised with regality. Unfortunately, the stress was plain on her face, as she kept silent during the volleying. Surely, she was choosing the right time to put everyone in their place. It was something he admired about Claire. Her tenacity had allowed her to grow into her leadership role, and he underestimated her ruthlessness time and time again. For some reason, it still surprised him when she made shrewd decisions. She was a formidable opponent, and would be a greater ally when push came to shove.

And yet, he had his own plans that needed to come to fruition. And Arika was always a means to an end.

“WE DO NOT HAVE TIME!” David bellowed.

The room began to simmer down, jolted out of their individual discussions, startled by his loudness.

“THERE IS NO TIME! We need to finish with these ridiculous…arguments! We need Helena! We need this for Vega! We need to bind ourselves to any allies we can muster. Do you think that the deaths of our Senators was all for show? Hmm?” David paused, turning to take in everyone. “Do you think it wasn’t a warning? The signs read ‘End of Days’! What do you think is coming our way?”

“I’m not convinced it was Gabriel’s doing!” Senator Drake yelled out. “Perhaps it was one of our own Houses vying for control! Who’s to say it was not you, David? House Wheele?”

David froze for a brief second at the ludicrous accusation. “I would do no such thing! Kill our own?”

Claire decided then to speak up. “It is actually within your capabilities, Senator Wheele.”

David turned to look at her. He wasn’t sure what she was trying to accomplish, but the knowing looking on her face reminded him of all that they both knew and kept to themselves. “It would _not_ be in the best interest of Vega to slaughter some of our strongest leaders during this time.”

“And, of course, you are always for the ‘best interest of Vega,’ right David?” Claire responded, her gaze not veering from him.

He steeled against her unsaid words and opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by her change of tone.

Standing from her seat, she took in the room, eyes moving from David to the rest of the scared leaders. “Senators, can we really take the chance at this point? What if it was Gabriel’s acolytes who have made their move against us? What if we lose more of you?”

David closed his mouth. Was she siding with him? Momentarily confused by her tactic, he stayed silent and he watched the others.

Senator Drake spat out, “Do you want to take the chance that it was House Wheele who put us here in the first place?”

“Let’s look at the facts, everyone. The threat of angels is constant, but this has escalated it. We no longer have an archangel to help us fight our battles and give us guidance. Gabriel is out there with an army of not only angels, but also humans who will do anything for him. And we can’t tell the difference. Our walls have failed us. We need to be airborne. We need help.” Claire sighed. “As much as it pains me, we need alliances. Don’t you agree?”

David’s mouth hung open again, momentarily, and then he came to his senses. He was still on display and needed to wipe the shocked look off of his face. Perhaps fear finally drove Claire to his side. Maybe they would actually succeed in protecting this city. He attempted to keep the smugness that was threatening to take over his expression and nodded to Claire. “Arika as part of the Senate would strengthen our defenses. She would be an important asset.”

“A true alliance, David?” Claire asked, eyebrow raised. “Let us be clear. Voting for her immediate addition to the Senate is on a temporary basis and only for a defined wartime scenario. She will have limited decision-making abilities and limited voting power.”

David nodded once. Anything to get the process going. They needed Helena’s air support, even if it wasn’t what he had hoped it would be. The rumors were probably not true, but Arika had assured him once before that she could bring more than just air support to Vega. Helena had an elite guard that rivaled the Archangel Corps. That alone would be a boon. “In this wartime scenario, would we allow an ally to join the Senate?”

Claire stood poised and strong as the leader that her father would have wanted her to be. David had wondered what would happen to House Riesen once Claire’s father disappeared. Although often at odds with her, he was strangely proud of the Lady of the City. He nodded once to Claire and relinquished the floor to her, moving back to his own seat.

Claire’s voice echoed through the room. “Let us put it to a vote.”


	22. Awake

Claire turned to him with that beaming smile of hers. Her beautiful face was all that he could concentrate on as he reached out and pushed a strand of hair off of her cheek. The light all around them was intense and brilliant, softening her features and everything around them. He couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

And then it shifted. The light dimmed a little, no longer having the warmth it had a moment ago.

She looked like she was about to say something when a look of horror crossed her face. Staring just past him, she froze as if time had stopped. A zing of alarm shot through Alex's body and the hair on his arms stood on end.

Immediately, he grabbed her by the shoulders and searched her face. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice stammering.

She remained frozen, staring just past him, with no sound coming out of her opened mouth. Alex tried to turn around, but something prevented him from moving. It was as if he was losing a battle against an unseen force that kept him rooted to the spot.

And then someone from below tugged at his shirt. Alarmed, Alex looked down to find a young blonde boy who had an uncanny resemblance to his younger self. "Leave mommy alone!" the boy yelled at him with a protective glare. "You're not my father! You're someone else! You're hurting her!"

The small child pushed Alex, causing him to take a step back from his mother. There was a sword in the young boy's left hand, and he held it high in a threatening manner.

"My son…" Alex said with confusion. His mind was reeling.

A large shadow fell over the boy and Claire, and Alex finally realized what she was so afraid of. It fell over him as well as he became unstuck, finally turning to look behind him. He found himself staring at a cloaked figure.

A cloaked figure with wings.

Relief flooded through him. Defending the newcomer, Alex turned back to the two of them. "It's ok! It's ok. He's just an angel. He's just... He's family."

Claire shook her head, her lips sealed as she tried to pull her son closer to her, stepping backwards, away from Alex. Fear was in her eyes as she now stared at him as if he himself had sprouted wings.

The young boy pulled away from her, stepping closer to Alex. "No, he isn't!" he screamed, jabbing the sword in the air, dangerously close to him.

Alex looked at the boy's scowling face and wondered how they had gotten to this point. The shadow that encompassed them all was expanding with every passing moment. He looked back to see the cloaked angel growing in size, his outstretched wings spread out to their full span. It grew darker and darker, enveloping everything around them.

And then Alex felt a white-hot burning in his chest.

Looking down, he found that the young boy had shoved his sword into his torso. Blood spurted out through the open wound and onto the boy's hands. It ran down Alex's shaking legs. The pain made his sight dimmer, as if the sun had disappeared altogether.

"ALEX!" Claire's voice echoed in his head as he stared into the eyes of the child. The blue eyes that were filled with hatred.

The blue eyes that were his.

* * *

Jolting awake, Alex clutched at his chest and opened his eyes immediately. Breathing heavily, he laid in bed for a moment, hearing the echo of Claire's voice in his head. The dreams were incessant now. Every time he closed his eyes there was a new horror to experience. As if his brain was trying to make sense of everything that was happening to his body.

Or perhaps it was trying to tell him something. To warn him of a darker future.

Exhaling deeply, he rubbed his face and slowly pushed himself upright. Glancing around, he found the bed empty. The clock on the nightstand read: 3:00AM. He moved slowly and finally stood up, wondering where Noma was. It wasn't like her to stray too far from him.

Trying to shake the dream from his thoughts, he walked to the window and pushed the curtain aside. Idly rubbing his chest, he glanced outside and noticed the moon beaming down on the parking lot. Letting go of the curtain, he started to turn away when something glinted in the distance.

Alex turned back to the window and took another look. Off in the distance, just under the Motel 6 signpost, something glinted, and then moved. It was a shadowy figure gesticulating.

And then another figure stepped out into the moonlight.

"What the…" Alex hissed.

* * *

Leaning against the signpost with her arms crossed, Noma remained quiet and patient. She waited, allowing for him to say what he needed to as he pleaded his case. As expected, Furiad wore his full red armor, sword at his side glinting in the moonlight. He at least had the decency to take off the helmet while speaking to her, but otherwise he seemed ready for a war if need be. The fiery angel shifted and moved as he talked to her, which was unusual for him. Noma guessed that Furiad wasn't used to being so open with his own emotions.

It wasn't surprising to her that he'd find them. She knew that he would track them down and had been wondering when it would happen. Noma expected to trade blows with the angel she once had an affair with so long ago. What she hadn't expected was what was coming out of his mouth.

"His way is not working, Noma," Furiad reiterated for the fifth time. "We need to go. Leave Gabriel to do his own dirty work! You know that Gabriel will not rest until the Chosen One bend's to his will. Let them go to war, while we leave. You don't need to be in the middle of this, Noma! Michael and Gabriel can have at it!"

He threw the helmet he was holding down onto the ground, not caring that it bounced off the gravel and tumbled away. Furiad watched as Noma silently stepped away from the signpost, relaxing her arms and placing her hands in her back pockets. She felt his gaze and the heat behind it.

"He is the answer to this…this mess," Noma said, quietly disagreeing with him.

Furiad stepped closer to her. "You don't have to stay with him, Noma."

"Furiad…"

He moved closer, intimately closer, and then gently cupped her face with both hands. His thumb tenderly rubbed against her cheek. "I've never forgotten about us. Please, Noma. Let us leave this all behind."

She searched his face for deceit, and only found raw emotion. This was Furiad, not Gabriel, playing at her heart. And although she felt for him, her heart belonged to Alex. Gently, she pulled his hands away from her face and then held them briefly, giving them a squeeze. "You know that I can't. I need to stay."

With a heart-breaking look, he searched her face for one last glimmer of hope. And then a second later, sure of her sincerity, his expression turned to a scowl. He stepped away from her and said with a resigned tone, "He will be our downfall."

"I don't think so," Noma said quietly. "He will make it better."

Furiad shook his head with anger. "He won't. And Gabriel's plan will see to that."

"And what plan would that be, exactly?" She took a step closer. Maybe his love for her would also bring full disclosure of impending events.

Furiad froze for a moment as if he heard something. He dropped down to pick up his helmet, and then pulled his sword as he straightened. Turning, Noma found Alex standing in the middle of the parking lot, barefoot and shirtless. His hair was sticking up at odd angles and he looked like he had just woken up.

"Alex!" Noma stepped towards him, attempting to put herself between him and the armored angel.

"What do you want, Furiad?" Alex called out, his hands balled into fists.

Noma knew that a confrontation between them would not end well. She stepped closer to Alex, trying to remain calm, even though all she really wanted to was grab the Chosen One and fly off to safety. "He came to talk to me about a few things. He's not here because of Gabriel."

"Are you sure of that, Noma?" Furiad's voice was filled with anger.

She turned to find Furiad in a fighting stance; his helmet back in place, wings expanded, and his sword pointing at Alex.

"Are you scouting ahead?" Alex asked calmly, not moving from his own wide stance.

Furiad's eyes remained focused on her. "Are you sure? This will be the last time I ask."

Noma's heart ached for the red warrior angel. But she was not in love with him and had come too far with Alex. She knew what Furiad was offering her. It would be easier to sit the whole thing out. To give up on what Michael had asked of her so many years ago. Why bother to defend the human race? Why bother to help the person who may possibly destroy everything? Why take the chance? Yet the idea of all of that happening while she sat on the sidelines made her feel ill. Leaving Alex alone in the chaos… she couldn't do that.

"What's he talking about, Noma?" Alex's hand pulled at her arm now, breaking into her thoughts.

She tilted her head for a second, giving Furiad a saddened look. "You know my decision. You've known my decision since my imprisonment in the aerie. I'm not coming with you. Go back to Gabriel and tell him what you want."

Furiad stared at her for a moment and then finally blinked. "So be it."

And then abruptly, the angel flapped his wings and began his onslaught. Leading with his sword, he charged at Alex. Noma immediately released her wings, yanking Alex close to her body, and turned as she used them as a shield to protect him. Bracing for impact, Noma held her breath and Alex froze against her.

But Furiad pitched and rolled out of the way, immediately tilting the sword to the side to avoid stabbing the one he still loved. Instead, he flew upwards into the air above, letting out a growl of frustration. Hovering there, he stared down at them, moving the sword from one hand to the other and back again, as if he were conflicted about his next move.

Noma lowered one of her wings and looked up at him. Alex glared up as well, pulling away from her as she released him. Under the moonlight, the tattoos on his body stood out in stark relief against his pale skin.

"Don't do this!" Noma called out.

"He will only bring us more death!" Furiad yelled. "And Gabriel will make sure of it!"

Noma straightened and Alex stepped further away from her. His hands were clenched as he stared upward, concentrating.

"No one controls my fate! No one!" Alex called out, anger getting the better of him.

"You have no idea, _Chosen One_." Furiad spat out.

"Go! Furiad, just go!" Noma yelled.

The warrior angel looked determined. "You bring this on yourself!" Furiad finally cried out and then flew at Alex once more, knocking Noma out of the way with the tip of his wing.

He slammed into Alex and they rolled into the desert sand. Smashing the sword hilt into Alex's face, Furiad knocked him backwards before Alex had a chance to kick him. The blonde man couldn't see straight as he tried to sit upright, his skin feeling raw from the tumble. His blurry vision made Furiad show up in triplicate as the angel stepped closer to him.

Standing over the Chosen One with his wings outstretched, he held his sword with both hands and pointed it down like a dagger. Aiming it at Alex's chest, he paused and stared at the disoriented expression that Alex now sported.

"Forgive me, Father," he said more to himself, and then shoved it downwards in order to finally end it all.

But before the blade touched his skin, Alex threw his hands up in defense. A few words spilled out as he intuitively muttered them under his breath. A fierce wind kicked up abruptly and Furiad was shoved backwards by an invisible energy. His sword flew out of his hand and lodged point-first into the sandy ground, jammed all the way down to the hilt.

The warrior angel found himself weaponless and covered in sand. Unsettled, he stared at Alex as he slowly stood up and faced him. Quickly, Furiad went for the sword, attempting to pull it out of the ground before Alex could move, but something slammed into him once more, knocking him onto his back and pinning him down.

Frozen, Furiad watched helplessly as Alex advanced on him with one palm facing out and a look of furious determination. He was still muttering words, just under his breath, causing fear to spike through the angel.

"Alex!" Noma's voice echoed across the courtyard.

The Chosen One stood over the prone warrior and lifted his other hand. Furiad felt his wings disappear and something tighten in his chest. Pain shot through his body, making him shudder and cry out. His entire body trembled as he clutched at his chest.

Noma couldn't believe what she was seeing. "ALEX! STOP!"

Alex remained still, hands poised over Furiad's trembling body. He was causing him pain, but Noma wasn't sure how nor was she willing to let it continue. Using her wings, she rapidly crossed the distance and yanked on his arm, hoping to break his concentration. "ENOUGH!"

She pulled him back a step and he blinked as his words halted. Furiad stopped shaking and let out an exhausted groan.

"What are you doing?" Noma said, harshly, roughly grabbing Alex's face with her hands and turning his head so he would be forced to look at her. "Alex, this isn't you! I know you."

His bewildered blue eyes stared back at her. Speechless, it took a moment for him to close his mouth and come back to his senses. She caressed his cheek and ran her fingers through his mussed hair. Sand flicked out of the blonde strands and seeded the air.

"I…he…," Alex whispered. "I felt like I was…"

Furiad groaned and rolled away from them. As quickly as he could manage, he yanked the sword out of the ground and released his wings. When he turned to face them, Noma noticed the anguish in his eyes as he continued to retreat, putting as much distance between them as he could.

She let go of Alex and she stepped towards the wounded angel. "Furiad…"

"You've made your choice. May Father return soon," he said quickly and took off into the sky. The moonlight glinted off of his armor for a moment and then he was gone, swiftly disappearing among the darkness.

When Noma turned to Alex, she noticed a change in him. He wasn't shocked any longer and definitely stood taller. The lost look he had the moment before had been swallowed and replaced by a scowl. Without a word, he turned and made his way back to motel room, leaving her to stand in the sand by herself.

Sighing, she wondered what new powers had yet to surface. Was what he had done to Furiad the same thing he had used against Gabriel? For a fleeting moment, she glanced up at the sky and wondered if she should have taken the easier route. Shaking it off, she trailed behind the blonde tattooed man, and hoped her strength and resolve would hold out for what was to come.


	23. Jump

Leaning against a slick wall, Claire took a deep breath. The Senate meeting had been exhausting as usual. She felt nauseated and at the same time oddly hungry as her hand subconsciously strayed to her lower abdomen. The baby was growing fast and was taking up all of her reserves. The stress, of course, was not helping.

The meeting was over and Claire had decided to take a moment in the hallway after most of the Senate members had left the room. It was a brief moment of quiet before she went about the rest of her day. Exhaling, she wondered if it would ever get any easier.

The double doors of the Senate room opened and Claire automatically straightened, trying to appear unfazed and as outwardly calm as possible. David Whele walked out and the guards closed the door behind him. Walking directly over to Claire, his face looked ashen as it had for the past few days, ever since the loss of the other Consuls.

“It appears we have made some progress,” he affirmed, attempting to sound stately, but Claire could easily see that he too was feeling the pressure. “This is for the best.”

“So you’ve said.” Her face was controlled and voice was even, even though the anger was rising along with the bile.

“The best for Vega. It is what Vega needs,” David declared, sounding more as if he were trying to convince himself.

“Right. Of course. For Vega,” Claire spat out and turned to walk away.

All of a sudden, the walls shook and the lights flickered down the hall. Something large from the outside collided with the building. Claire and David tried to right themselves, glancing at each other with fear in their eyes.

The Senate guards immediately sprung into action, checking in on their walkies while the doors were thrown open. The remaining Consuls came streaming out, including Arika and her high priestess, Laurel. Gunfire could be heard off in the distance and Claire immediately started for an exit. The panic in her chest was barely kept at bay, as she kept moving.

David grabbed Ethan by the arm as the soldier ran out of the Senate room. “What is happening?”

Ethan hurriedly said, “Not sure yet, Consul.” He pulled his arm out of David’s grip and disappeared down the hall, running toward the firefight.

Laurel spotted Claire and was suddenly standing next to her. Leaning close, she held Claire’s arm tightly as they moved. “We have to go, Lady Riesen. It is not safe here,” she said, hurriedly.

More gunshots went off and another explosion rocked the building, causing cracks in the wall. People were running and the air was filled with smoke and debris. Claire could barely see down the hallway, let alone who she was walking next to as she coughed and wheezed. Laurel stayed with her as Claire paused to lean against a wall for a moment. The priestess was acting rather protective of her for some reason, and Claire wondered if the woman knew more about her than she let on.

Pale-faced David coughed noisily as he followed behind them. “Where is Arika?” he asked Laurel, pausing as well.

The priestess looked frightened and shook her head, “I’m not sure, Consul. I lost her in the smoke!”

Suddenly, two soldiers came into focus in the middle of the white haze. One of them was Ethan, who immediately waved them forward. “We have to leave now! They’re attacking from the other side. I circled back to avoid detection. We don’t have much time!” he spat out in one breath as they began to move again.

They stumbled toward the staircase as more explosions rocked the building. Ethan and another soldier led the way, turning the corner and scouting ahead for new danger. Maneuvering slowly, they descended down the stairs and found themselves in another corridor.

Within minutes, several figures appeared, covered in dark clothing, full tactical gear and face masks. Their weapons were pointed at them and Ethan and the other soldier immediately laid down cover fire, yelling for the rest of them to fall back. Laurel grabbed Claire and pulled her flat against the wall as David dropped down into a crouch.

They exchanged fire and more Archangel Corps showed up to combat the darkly clad infiltrators. One of them broke through the line and attacked Ethan, slamming him in the face. Ethan immediately struck back with the barrel of his rifle.

Looking for a way to help him, Claire searched for something to use as a weapon. But before she could go any further, Laurel quickly pulled her back to safety. “We have to go!” The blonde woman yanked at Claire’s arm, dragging her away down another smoky corridor.

David noticed as they disappeared around the corner. Swallowing hard, he decided to follow them as they retreated, and then ran at full speed to get as far away from the gunfight as possible.

“This way!” Laurel called out as they veered off to the left, towards the back garage.

Before David could follow, a dark figure assaulted him, slamming him into the wall. Claire attempted to help him, but Laurel got to him first, immediately knocking the attacker in the head with a regulations folder that she had found on a nearby freight desk. The masked assailant barely pushed himself upright before he found Ethan standing over him. The AK47 came down onto his cheek with a resounding CRACK, knocking the guy out for the count. Glancing over at the ladies, Ethan nodded in acknowledgement and then moved over to David to check on him.

More of the Archangel Corps showed up, facing off with advancing black figures that seemed to show up out of nowhere. Claire wondered who they were and where they were coming from. _How could so many of them get past the gates?_ Interrupting her thoughts, Laurel quietly pulled her away from the fray and towards a military truck parked in the small garage. The two ladies leaned against it, hiding from the shooting off in the distance.

Claire was breathing heavily and feeling severe cramps in her abdomen. Her hand cradled her lower belly as she bent over, cringing in pain.

With concern, Laurel asked, “Are you alright?”

“No…” Claire gulped air and fought tears.

The blonde priestess cautiously leaned around the corner, surveying their surroundings. “It is not safe here.”

“It’s not safe anywhere anymore,” Claire spat out, squeezing her eyes shut against the sudden onslaught of another pang.

“It is safer in my home, Lady Claire,” Laurel said, wringing her hands as she looked at her. “Perhaps it is time to consider that.”

Claire opened her eyes to look up at her companion and gauge her seriousness. “What do you mean?”

“Leave Vega. Come with me to my home. Helena will keep you safe,” Laurel said, trying to convince her without showing too much exuberance. Claire could tell that there was a hesitation in her statements. “We can go now!”

“Just… leave Vega? Just like that?” Claire said, with disbelief, wondering how Laurel would benefit from her proposed action.

“You know it is not safe anymore. Someone is trying to kill you. Kill you all.” Laurel breathed deeply, taking a look around again as the sound of gunfire seemed to move further away. “This is the perfect time to leave.”

Claire closed her eyes again as the cramps got worse. She worried that she was losing her child, hoping that she wasn’t bleeding at the moment. It was hard for her to tell. Her legs turned into jelly as she took a step forward and then slowly sank to the floor.

Laurel grabbed her around the waist and pulled her upright. “Lady Claire?”

“I’m not feeling so well,” Claire said, breathing shallowly, and leaning heavily against the blonde woman.

Immediately, the priestess took the opportunity to move her to the passenger door of the truck and opened it. “Let us go. While we still can,” she whispered into Claire’s ear as she helped her up into the truck.

Claire felt exhausted and in pain and wasn’t quite sure if it mattered anymore. The only thing she could think about was saving her baby and herself. “I think I need a doctor,” she said through gritted teeth.

Laurel closed the door and immediately got in on the other side. “You will be okay. You are probably just feeling shock from all the…” She gestured into the air, as if she was out of breath herself.

“No, I am… I’m pregnant. And cramping. Painfully cramping. So I’m afraid that…” Claire stopped, taking a deep breath and noticing that the cramping was briefly subsiding. She glanced over at the blonde who seemed to have stopped moving altogether, as if she were listening to something. She was leaning closer to her, puzzling Claire in the process. “What are you doing?”

“I think your baby is fine. Strong like you are, Lady Claire,” she said after a moment and then smiled at her. “You are both fine.” She patted Claire’s leg and then turned in her seat and started the truck as Claire stared at her in confusion.

“How would you know?” Claire said, confused as she hurriedly put on her seat belt before the truck started moving.

“I have a feeling you will be fine.” Laurel glanced around and checked the mirrors before driving the truck straight out of the garage and towards one of the smaller city gates.

“Maybe this isn’t a good idea. We should just pull off into the side streets. We’ll be fine within Vega. We just have to head over to Archangel Corps headquarters.” Claire stared out of the window, thinking about the concept of actually leaving Vega. It hurt her heart. The idea of leaving everything behind, everything her father had built, made her feel as if she were a traitor of sorts. Could she ever return? Would they ever forgive her? She watched as people ran and another explosion went off to the right of the truck.

Both women flinched. “The city is under attack, Lady Claire! It’s time to leave!” Laurel exclaimed as she veered to the left to avoid debris that slammed into the road in front of them.

She headed straight to the West Gate. The gate that was wide open and completely abandoned.

Claire’s mouth dropped open. “How is that possible?”

“Whoever is attacking knows your city well.” The priestess said quietly and swerved erratically to avoid a few scurrying people.

“Slow down!” Claire exclaimed, holding onto the armrest. “We’re going to crash!”

“It will be fine. We will be fine,” she said, pausing to look for more obstacles in the road ahead. And then more to herself, she said, “I guarantee it.”

They slammed through the rest of the debris from the remnants of the gate itself. Claire squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. _This is for you, little one_ , she thought. She couldn’t think about anyone else but her child now. Perhaps leaving _was_ the only thing to do now.

Minutes later, they found themselves outside the city limits with gunfire trailing after them. They barely escaped as Laurel floored it, speeding down the road that led out of town. Claire stared ahead at the vastness of the sky and the flatness of the desert.

They just left Vega. Just like that. She left all of it behind; left it to fall to pieces. Without her there. Without her father. Without saying good-bye. Left David and Arika and Ethan and the only home she ever knew…all there in the city. And left it to go where? To a place she had never seen or visited, to a place she only knew of through rumors and whispers. Claire let go of the breath she was holding. She was reeling and she needed to get it under control.

Glancing at her companion, she wondered what she had been thinking. She did not _know_ this blonde woman and yet she had decided to place her life…her _baby’s_ life!… into this woman’s hands.

She looked at the side mirror and saw the open city gate behind them. It looked like a gaping maw in the city’s defenses. The city that was covered in a hazy gray smoke trailing up to the sky, and slowly getting smaller and smaller the further away they drove. She couldn’t help but feel a lump in her throat as tears sprung to her eyes. Her home was no longer her home. It was under siege.

And she had just jumped ship.


	24. Different

The sun barely peaked through the thick clouds overhead. A cool breeze ruffled through Alex’s hair as he stood on the rooftop of an old storefront. It was next to the dilapidated hotel that they had decided to stop at the night before. He needed some perspective and this was the closest he was going to get at the moment. Although it was overcast, it was still bright outside and Alex had to squint as he stood facing towards the road. They kept getting closer to Vega, and yet he felt further and further away from what he once was.

That young soldier was long gone. Something had changed inside of him. Noma, who noticed everything, kept her mouth shut, but he could tell that she was itching to ask him what had happened. She had been giving him time to sort himself out after the last time he woke up and nearly crashed their truck and leveled the road they were on. The look in her eyes wasn’t fear necessarily, but close to it. The dream he had had was so realistic that he couldn’t understand where he was. It took a few hours to calm down again; for Noma to bring him back to reality.

Something was definitely different.

Alex’s jaw clenched as he stared off into the distance. He stood rigid and then moved slowly, changing his posture to fall back into a soldier’s resting stance. Closing his eyes, he felt the tattoos suddenly move and flow over his body. It had been occurring more and more often, and it felt as if he knew what they were trying to tell him. That it was there, just out of reach. As if it were on the tip of his tongue.

It was frustrating.

Opening his eyes, he looked down at his forearms and saw the words flowing by, symbols filtering through and rippling along his skin. With a viciousness he thought he had quelled, he yanked off his shirt and looked down at his bare chest. The entire tattoo was moving, making his skin look like it was flickering in the daylight. That had never occurred before and he wasn’t sure if he should be frightened or hopeful. A strange tickling feeling began at the base of his neck and then rippled outward and down his body as the tattoos began to move faster.

He held his hands out with his palms up and wondered if the light he was seeing was actually coming from him. Or was it coming from the sun that had finally pierced through from above? He felt as if…as if he were glowing.

Wings pulsated above him. Alex was too distracted to notice until suddenly Noma dropped down, landing in front him with a look of pure shock.“Alex?”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” he said, with a bit of panic creeping into his voice.

“You’re…disappearing!” she exclaimed, dropping the two bags of supplies that she had been carrying. Not knowing what to do, Noma kept her distance.

Alex abruptly felt a rush of energy cascading through his body, a euphoric feeling overwhelming his senses. A violent wind picked up around him as the sensation made him lean back his head and close his eyes. His tattoos shimmered and the whole building began to tremble.

Noma immediately lunged at him, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Alex!”

His eyelids flew open and he stared back at her with blazing silver eyes. The blue of his irises transformed into a piercing brilliance. It was as if he was staring right through her. Alex looked alien and disconnected to everything. He pulled out of her grip and the building shook harder, causing the roof beneath them to crumble around the edges.

Noma’s wings immediately kept her alight as she quickly moved away from him. The shaking didn’t seem to affect him at all and she realized it was because he wasn’t touching the building itself. He was hanging in mid air, just a foot off the rooftop, standing as if he were on solid ground. She blinked, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

The clouds above roiled and moved, as the whole sky got darker and darker. Alex continued to stare at her, through her, unblinking, unflinching. It was as if he was seeing something that she could not. His entire demeanor was foreign to her all of a sudden, as if he were otherworldly and not the Alex that she knew and loved.

And then a pained scowl crossed his face as he blinked and exclaimed, “Noma!”

The wind suddenly stopped and the sky felt instantly brighter. Alex stumbled forward and then collapsed onto his knees, blinking in confusion. The glow had disappeared, leaving him dull and ashen. The tattoos had stopped moving too and the sensation of euphoria was gone. It was replaced by a heaviness, as if the weight of the world had crashed down onto Alex’s shoulders. He could barely stay upright on his knees as he tried to regain control over his trembling body.

Cracks had formed throughout the rooftop and Noma stayed hovering just above it, wondering what to do with the Chosen One who looked just as confused about what had happened as she was.

Michael had not prepared her for this. She was just as clueless about what he was supposed to learn from those markings as he was. What had Father bestowed on him? Were the rumors true about his bloodline? Was this normal? She had asked Michael of what he knew, and as true to form, he had been vague about his own notions. Often telling her to keep her focus on the man himself. On Alex as a human.

But these powers… they were something different. They were tearing him apart. Or were they strengthening him for what was to come?

Still on his knees, Alex looked up at her as he leaned back. His blue eyes had watered and appeared strained and blood-shot. “What is happening to me, Nomes?” he said, hoarsely.

She didn’t know how to answer him. What _was_ the Chosen One supposed to do that would unite them all and bring Father back? What kind of abilities did those markings give him? Noma tilted her head as she stared at him, thoughts cascading through her mind at a clipped pace. Raguel had warned her that things were coming to a head. That the humans weren’t going to wait around till the Chosen One grew into his powers.Her quick trip to the Camp had been needed, but Raguel’s words had echoed through her as she flew back to the hotel.

Only to find the Chosen One in the throws of another ability growth spurt.

What exactly _was_ Alex?

Noma carefully landed next to him. His tortured blue eyes drank her in as he reached up to grab her hand. Gently, she ran her fingers down the side of his face as she looked down at him.

Not ordinary. Definitely different.


	25. Reminisce

His patience was dwindling.

Standing just outside the open French doors on the veranda, Michael felt the crisp breeze coming off the mountain range in the distance. It called to him, making him want to jump off the ledge and soar through the cloudless sky, taking in the scenery below. He wanted to know how large New Delphi actually was and had expressed this to his brother in previous hours of discussion, but Raphael had made it clear that revealing himself as an angel was out of the question at the moment. Azrael and his brother had been living as humans, staying hidden in plain sight. The timing was not right, though the people of New Delphi would find out soon enough, Raphael assured him.

Michael understood the need for it. The distrust in the settlement was palpable. His hands were clasped behind his back as he watched a bird soar by. The distrust reminded him of Vega. How could humans ever accomplish anything with such a disdain for one another? He wondered if perhaps his crusade to save them was all for naught. In the end, the humans seemed to be bent on their own destruction.

Another bird flew by and the archangel itched to stretch his wings. He worried for Alex, wondering if he had chosen wrongly by coming to New Delphi. Perhaps he should have made his way to Gabriel’s aerie. Or perhaps return to Vega. His lip twitched at the ridiculous idea. The Archangel Corps would shoot him out of the sky.

Off in the distance, a group of soldiers marched down the street. Several people quickly scattered, disappearing into nearby buildings, as if to avoid them altogether. Michael tilted his head just a little, observing their behavior. What had Raphael done to instill such fear?

He turned back to the office behind him and watched his brother who stood by his desk with his arms folded. He was staring down at a map while rubbing his chin. Raphael looked more like a rebel fighter or mercenary than a soldier. Definitely less angelic. So different than the last time that Michael had seen him. The way he moved and acted reminded Michael of how much they had all had to adapt to being on this plane of existence. The edge that was now in his brother was something Michael had always had, but now Raphael had it too and used it as a shield. 

It made Michael feel melancholic, wistful for the old times. Before they descended. He walked back inside, walking over to the desk and glancing at the map. Michael wondered if Raphael had succeeded in tracking some of the Camp’s movements. The markings looked as if they were in a pattern. Dealing with Alex and the Vega politics had been all consuming, and consequently hadn’t left much time for keeping pace with that whole faction. He knew that the others were doing what they could and he had to hope that things were going well. 

“It needs to end, Michael.” Raphael sighed as he stared at the map.

“I know.” 

Raphael pointed at the hatch marks on the west coast. “They move constantly, but this is their current pattern.” 

“The Camp?” 

Raphael nodded. “Once Vega joins and Helena can be convinced to do the same, we just need the Camp to join the fold.”

Michael studied his brother. “Join the fold?” 

“They need to unite and be at peace, brother. Before Gabriel poisons them all. Or more probable, before they destroy themselves.”

“So you’ll force them to join New Delphi? As an alliance?” Michael asked tentatively, trying to suss out what his brother was getting at. It wasn’t a terrible idea to unite the human race again, instead of having them disjointed all over the western seaboard.

“Not force. I don’t think I’ll have to _force_ anyone to join. It will happen. It is already underway.” He gave him a small knowing smile, which then faded as he thought about it more. “A united community, brother. Perhaps if they can bring peace among themselves, we can show Father that Gabriel’s actions didn’t destroy everything,” Raphael said quietly, more to himself. 

Michael sighed. If only Father would show Himself. The unknown was destroying his brethren. “I would like to believe that as well. However, I’m not quite sure that it will do much of anything.”

Raphael looked at him in alarm. “You don’t believe Father will return?”

Michael hesitated. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. “I think perhaps the Chosen One will have more impact. I…I don’t know if what _we_ do will bring Him back… I don’t know…”

Raphael’s mouth opened as if to retort and then he reset his resolve and uncrossed his arms, staring back down at the map. “If Gabriel gets his way, then He will never return. Destroying Father’s creations would surely drive him further away. Despite their own predilections to destroy themselves.”

Michael turned away, walking back to the French doors and studying the sky outside once again. “How did you bring peace to New Delphi?” He glanced back at his brother who shifted his feet, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “By a forceful hand? Did Azrael have something to do with it?”

Raphael sat down in his chair, again hand to his chin as he considered Michael’s question. “New Delphi was not a pleasant place for any living being. There were no rules except to live and die by a weapon. There was no true peace here. The humans fractured off into various groups led by their most intimidating cutthroats. It was with great difficulty to bring them into any semblance of unified order.”

“Hence…Oracle Corps. And Azrael at the forefront,” Michael stated.

“It could not be helped, brother,” Raphael responded nonchalantly.

“Utilizing Azrael as a weapon?” Michael said with disdain.

“She did so willingly. She still does.” 

Michael didn’t like it, but he knew he spoke the truth. “You have changed as much as Gabriel has.”

Raphael smacked the desk next to him with a resounding BANG. “AND YOU? So busy with the Chosen One. And yet no progress!”

A lesser angel might have jumped from the onslaught of sound, but Michael was unfazed as usual. He stared out of the window again. A momentary pause as he mulled over his next words. “Do you believe the child had descendants? A line of people that now live in these settlements?” he wondered aloud, changing the subject. “Does our blood now flow in the veins of these humans? Perhaps Gabriel is killing his own kin without his knowledge.”

“The child?” Raphael stilled at the question.

Glancing over his shoulder, he tried to gauge his brother’s reaction. “Perhaps he would see no difference.”

Raphael stood up. He looked stricken. “It is improbable. That such blood continues to run through their veins! I was the last to do such a thing.”

“You were not.” Michael shifted.

“I was the last!” Raphael exclaimed. “Father was clear that such unions were not to occur.”

“The Morning Star was not likely to listen to him, don’t you agree?” Michael said quietly, turning to face him.

“The Morning Star?” Raphael said surprised.

“There are those who do not bend to the will of their creator.”

“That would mean…”

Michael nodded and sat down in one of the oversized chairs. “It was a gamble. My taking him as a child. Saving him from destruction.” 

Raphael stared at him. Michael thought that he already knew such information, but it appeared that his brother had been in the dark all these years. Perhaps revealing that now was pointless. “There is no guarantee that he follows in his father’s path.”

“The child should have been destroyed.” Raphael swallowed, his expression hardening. “Instead, he is in the middle of a tug of war between angels and probably the reason why Father left in THE FIRST PLACE!”

Michael watched as Raphael clenched and unclenched his fists, taking a moment to regain control. And then, as if suddenly the energy was spent, he slouched back into his chair and rubbed his eyes. The archangel looked more and more human. That strange alien unblinking, unwavering gaze that Michael still maintained was lost in Raphael. Even the way he moved, it was as if he never had wings. “He is the key to all things, Raphael. That scripture is from Father and was meant for Alex.” 

“How do you know? Did He tell you? Before He left us all to rot on this plane? Before He let our Home slowly fall into shambles? Slowly disappearing as the moments pass us by?” Raphael sounded like he was spitting out the words. “Did you know that we would become this? That _I_ would become this angry…violent… _tyrant?_ ”

Michael stood, pacing closer to his brother. “You are no tyrant and your emotions…they are yours. Perhaps dormant all those years before, but they are still _yours_. Alex…he is _good._ The purpose of what covers his body and what flows through his veins…that we shall see. But at the core of that man, there is good, despite his lineage.”

“And you’ve trusted your life in his hands? In that child’s hands!” Raphael asked with a frenetic underlying current. “You’ve entrusted all of our lives…”

“He _is_ the Chosen One.”

“And you’ve made it so.” Raphael stared up at the tall angel. “Was it you that chose? Or was it Father? How did you find him in the chaos that was raining down on the world?”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “You know the answer to that question. It was Father that chose. It was the last mission I was given. And you know that – you were there.” 

Mollified, Raphael remained silent, steepling his fingers and resting them against his chin. “The Chosen One needs to join the fold.”

Michael stood at ease, hands clasped behind his back. “That is no longer our choice, but his alone.”

“And you have no sway with him?” Raphael raised an eyebrow. “He has been in your care for all these years.” 

“That ‘sway’ was…broken.” Michael remained emotionless as he responded. “We will do what we must to take care of our brother’s wayward actions and let the Chosen One make his own path.”

Raphael studied him for a moment and then fluidly stood up. “Well…” pausing, only to take a moment to look around his desk. “So it is. The plan must go on.” He focused back on the map once more, pointing something out to Michael and moving on as if their conversation bore no significance.

But Michael knew better. He followed along with the same pretense, standing across from him with his hands clasped behind his back. But something was happening behind those royal-blue eyes, something larger. Raphael was scheming and it was unlike him. New Delphi had pulled his brother deep into its underbelly and it would not let go.

 


	26. Trapped

The sun descended on the vast desert and Claire could barely keep her eyes open as Laurel continued to speed down the highway into the great unknown. Claire had remained silent for the majority of the time, keeping her thoughts to herself as they left the only home she had known. She didn't want to talk to the priestess, feeling conflicted with the decision she had made and wondering, not for the first time, if there was something else going on. The priestess was resourceful and their escape from the city limits had been mostly uneventful. Easy, in fact.

It dawned on Claire a while ago that she really had no idea what the people of Helena were like, other than her brief encounters with the priestesses. It was said that the settlement was purely matriarchal, with the children hidden away and the men with barely any societal standing.

So much was unknown about their society. But the thing that was nagging at her, the more important question really, was why would the high priestess of Helena leave Arika behind? Wouldn't Helena's own be more important than a political player of Vega?

Claire rubbed her cheek absently, feeling parched and mildly clammy. She had been staring out of the window for hours now, hardly seeing the passing scenery. Lost in thought, she had barely glanced over at the blonde woman. Claire knew that being in this woman's presence was probably the wrong decision. The cramping in her lower abdomen had disappeared and the adrenaline was no longer rushing through her body, leaving only exhaustion and hunger in its wake. She tried to remain hopeful that she had made the right play, answering Laurel when she asked her how she was doing.

"I'm okay." Claire said quietly. She knew she was still strong and wanted to keep her aches to herself, preserving what little appearance of strength she had left after such an ordeal.

"You must be hungry, yes?" Laurel broke through her thoughts, making Claire wonder absently if Laurel could read her mind.

"I am. I really am." Claire sighed, not turning from the car window. The moon was large on the horizon, as the sky slowly got darker and the sunlight disappeared.

"We will have food soon. There is a place not far from here," Laurel said quietly as she continued to speed down the road.

Not long after, abandoned cars began to populate the stark highway. Laurel cautiously navigated through them and then pulled off to the right, aiming for a squat little building with several parked cars just outside of it.

Slowly, Laurel approached the diner, parking close to the entrance. She turned off the engine and turned to Claire. "We must be careful, but I think we can find food here. Hopefully, not everything has been spoiled."

"What if there are eightballs?" Claire said quietly, looking at the darkened building. "We have no flashlights. No weapons."

"This truck must have supplies or something we can use," Laurel said quietly, slipping out of the truck and heading towards the back.

Not wanting to be alone, Claire immediately followed suit and found the priestess already opening the back of the truck. A few cases covered in tarp sat in the truck bed. The blonde woman carefully opened a few of them, only to find small boxes of textiles. The last one that she opened held a shotgun with shells as well as various electronics. Pulling out a radio with a walkie, Laurel studied the device for a second before putting it back.

Claire glanced around, trying to keep an eye out for any movement behind her. Glancing back, she noticed Laurel as she pulled out the shotgun and ammo. The small blonde woman looked awkward as she held it out from her body and slowly climbed out of the truck.

At times like that, Claire believed that she was just a high priestess of Helena. But then the woman would do something strange and Claire would rethink her position on the matter. It was probable that the blonde lithe woman had some other agenda.

After scanning the skies and glancing about to get their bearings, the two of them walked into the diner, only to find it empty and deserted. There was not even a rotting body to overwhelm the place with its stench. The place was not pristine, however. There was a table with a fork on it covered in what probably was blood and a brown red stained next to it. Empty sundae bowls sat next to the fork and Claire wondered what had occurred there.

Laurel immediately went to the kitchen with Claire tailing not far behind her. The kitchen was quite clean and orderly, which struck Claire as odd and out of place. It was as if the place had been cleaned recently. Gingerly placing the shotgun on the counter, the priestess grabbed a pan and filled it with water from an unopened water gallon sitting on the counter. She put it on the stove and turned it on, waiting for a second for the pilot to start.

"What are you doing?" Claire asked, feeling strangely out of place.

"Making tea, Lady Claire," Laurel said calmly as she pulled out two mugs and found some tea bags in one of the cupboards. It was as if she had been there before, knowing where everything was. It struck Claire as peculiar and suspicious.

"Shouldn't we be looking for food? We should hurry! Shouldn't we? In case the eightballs show up?" Claire said, alarmed.

"It is dark outside and we need to rest for a while. We will be alright here," she said without looking at Claire. The shotgun was still sitting on the counter nearby and Claire felt suddenly helpless and vulnerable. This woman was starting to freak her out.

"How far is Helena?" she asked, trying to keep the sudden panic that was rising into her throat from overwhelming her.

"It is a good distance. When day breaks, we will be on the road again. In the meantime, we will drink tea and eat food. You have to feed your child, Lady Claire." Laurel smiled at her and walked over to her.

Claire stared at the blonde woman, feeling suddenly delirious. Not eating or drinking for so long was starting to make her feel crazy. Laurel reached for her and Claire froze, suddenly aware of her own behavior. Looking down, Claire found herself clutching a knife that she must have pulled from the nearby cutting block. The priestess cautiously took the knife from her hand and put it back in the chopping block. "All will be well. Why don't you sit in a booth and I will bring you the tea when it is ready."

Claire didn't respond at first and the other woman slowly turned her around and gave her a small push towards the dining area before returning to the stove.

It was eerily quiet in the diner. Not even the click and whirr sounds of a refrigerated display case or the hum of a jukebox. All of the booths looked dirty except for one. Claire sat down in it, feeling heavy and exhausted, as if gravity was pulling her down. Her head felt like it weighed like a ton of bricks, and she wanted to rest it on the table. Nothing made much sense, but she could tell that drinking something would help her immediately. A few moments passed and Laurel showed up, standing in front of her. She set a cup of tea on the table along with a box of V crackers and a pudding pack.

"I found this so far, but I will go and look in the back for anything more. Just relax and drink. You must be exhausted, Lady Claire." Uriel said quietly, looking at her with sympathy.

Claire was grateful, sitting up taller and trying to shake the sleepiness. "Thank you. Really. Thank you."

Laurel smiled down at her and then walked back towards the kitchen, pausing for a moment, as if she were listening to something. Something had caught her attention, but then the blonde woman disappeared before Claire could say anything more.

Drinking the tea was a nice relief. The warmth seemed to spread through her body as she munched on the slightly stale crackers. It was food and she was grateful for it. The delirious feeling from earlier seemed to clear for a moment as the hunger haze subsided. She sat there listening to the overwhelming silence and wondered what had happened to Laurel.

And then something strange happened off to her right. Something clicked as if it were a gun being cocked.

Alarmed, Claire turned to find herself staring down the barrel of a AK47. And down past that barrel was a set of very familiar eyes. Blue eyes. Alex's eyes.

Claire stood up immediately, "Alex!"

"Claire?" Alex looked at her with confusion, as he lowered the gun and stepped back, further away from her. He was wearing full tactical Archangel Corps gear, and looked like he did back before everything started. Back when they used to meet in secret.

Claire felt confused. Why did he move away from her?

Alex moved slowly and carefully sat down across from her. She slowly sat down, feeling disappointed that he didn't hug her or greet her in any other way. He put the gun on the table between them. "So you trust them now?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"You're here with _them_ ," he said matter-of-factually.

"Who do you mean? Who is 'them'?" she said, trying to make sense of his words. Pleading with him to understand, she added, "I had to save myself. To save _our_ child."

"Our child. Our child? But you left _our_ child. You left _our_ city. You left!" Alex spat out, angrily.

"No! I had to leave Vega, for us. For our baby." She protested, now really confused. What was happening? "Wait, how are you here?"

"Listen to me, Claire. _They_ only want our baby. They don't care about you. They don't care about any of this," Alex said, cryptically.

"Alex…"

"I did this for you, Claire! For us! I did everything for us! And then you left Vega? Why would you do that? I can't protect you like this!" he yelled at her, causing her to shake in confusion.

"Alex… this isn't you…" she protested, again confused.

He grabbed the rifle and stood up. "What do you think I'm doing, Claire? What do you think this was all for? How could you marry him? How could you do it?"

Claire stood up, hands out, itching to go to him, to touch him, to hug him. "I didn't want to, you know I didn't. It was for Vega. It was for my father."

He paced and then threw the rifle on a nearby table and pulled out his handgun, staring at it. "You didn't care about me. You didn't care how much it hurt. How much I did this all for you."

Claire slowly moved closer. "Please…Alex put the gun down."

He looked directly at her. "You can't trust them. Claire you can't trust _her."_

"Who, Alex? Who are you talking about?"

"Don't trust them!" he yelled at her and put the gun to his head.

"No! NO! ALEX!" Claire lunged forward, hoping to stop him.

He stared at her with hurt blue eyes and yelled, "WAKE UP!"

A gun went off, echoing throughout the diner with the remnants of his voice…

* * *

Claire jerked forward, blinking.

The room was quiet and empty. And Claire was sitting at her booth with an empty mug and an empty box of crackers. Alex was not there, but his lingering voice was echoing in her head. And the image of his anguished eyes was still burned into her mind.

She sat up, rubbing her arm, which had fallen asleep from lying on it. She cringed at the thought of Alex pulling the trigger and the idea of him killing himself or putting himself in danger like that. It made her feel ill and her hands shook as she struggled to calm down. It had felt so real. As if he really was only an arm's length away.

She shuddered for a moment and then stood up, wondering where Laurel was and why she had fallen asleep for what felt like a long time.

* * *

The breeze was crisp outside and the desert critters were chirping and rustling away into the night. Uriel stood in the middle of the street right outside of the diner, not far from where they had parked the truck. She was irritated with the angel standing in front of her. As usual, someone was second-guessing her and it was starting to grate on her nerves.

Furiad was just the messenger, of course, but Uriel could tell what he thought of the whole situation. The red-armored angel hadn't bothered to take his helmet off as he stood still with his sword in hand. As if they were going to come to blows. He kept eyeing the diner, which also annoyed the blonde archangel. She knew he was itching to take the woman inside directly to Gabriel and end all of the back and forth, but Uriel knew that was not part of the arrangement.

"It is going as planned. You may tell my brother that things are progressing as we had discussed," she said loudly, trying to direct his attention away from his straying gaze.

Furiad growled his response. "It better be. Gabriel has his doubts about the loyalty of your followers."

"You can assure him that they have done as they were told. That the Chosen One's progeny will be safe." She sighed. "I've told him before that my followers are his as well."

Furiad stared at her blankly for a moment and then put the sword away. "Be sure to fulfill the rest."

Uriel nodded as Furiad's wings appeared and lifted him into the air. Within moments, the angel disappeared into the clouds, leaving Uriel to turn back to the diner.

* * *

Walking inside, Uriel took a moment to look around, wondering why Claire's booth was empty. Where had she gone? Panic zinged through the angel as she started to search for the woman.

"Lady Claire?" she called out and moved to the back of the diner. Stopping at the bathroom door, she listened for a moment and then walked inside the small multi-stalled room.

Inside, she noticed that one of the stalls was occupied. "How are you feeling, Lady Claire?"

A moment passed before Claire's voice responded, "I'm here… I'm fine."

"Did you want me to make some more tea?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, please! More tea would be lovely!" Claire's voice sounded a little odd to Uriel, but the angel dismissed it. The poor woman had gone through a lot in the past few hours. "I'll make some more and join you in the booth."

"Ok!"

Uriel stood still for a moment, as she listened to Claire's irregular heartbeat. It was faster than before, but perhaps she had given the human a bit of a fright when she came into the bathroom. Dismissing it again, she opened the door and left the room, set to make more tea.

* * *

Standing frozen inside the stall, Claire attempted to keep calm, stilling her breath and relaxing her shoulders. Her heart raced and her hands were trembling. She needed more time. Time to think.

Laurel was part of Gabriel's army? Was she an angel, too? Why hadn't the Powers angel taken her? What did they have planned? And where was Alex? Claire took another deep breath and then flushed the toilet, in case Laurel was listening. She concluded that they must know that the Chosen One would come for her if he knew of her disappearance. That they had been lovers.

She went to the sink and turned on the faucet but nothing came out. Looking in the mirror, she noticed how ashen she looked as she tucked her hair back. Her hands shook as she took another deep breath.

 _Damn it!_ she thought. The attack on Vega was probably part of the plan. And she had willingly left with Laurel, fearing for her child's life as well as her own. Internally chastising herself, she schooled her features and attempted a look of serenity before going back out to the booth.

She opened the bathroom door and found Laurel standing in the hallway, waiting for her.

"Are you feeling ill?" The blonde woman eyed her, clearly keeping track of Claire's every movement.

She paused for a second and then continued walking past her. She remained calm, responding, "I had to use the restroom, Laurel. That's all."

Laurel nodded. "I was worried when you weren't by the booth. We should stay close by each other. You never know when the angels may show up."

"Yes. You never know." Attempting to placate the blonde, she turned to her with a small smile.

Laurel walked ahead of her and started for the door, pausing only to see if she would follow. "Perhaps we should move on? It is quite stressful, but the more distance we put behind us, the better it will be, Lady Claire."

Claire paused and then smiled a little more, remembering to rein in her emotions. "You're right. We should be on the road."

Laurel nodded and held the door open for her. She waited for Claire to walk past before following her out to the truck. Under the guise of aiding her, Laurel made sure to open the passenger door for Claire, waiting till she was secured inside before going the driver's side.

Claire sighed as her smile slipped. She watched the blonde woman through the windshield and wondered what plan she had hatched with the archangel. Exhaustion seeped into her body and she knew that the pretense of ignorance would eventually wear thin. How was she going to get away from this woman? If she were an angel, why wouldn't she reveal herself? Claire chastised herself once more for not seeing through the guise.

She stared out of the window again as Laurel started the truck and pulled back out onto the highway. Looking at the side mirror, she watched the diner slowly disappear out of sight, shrinking into the distance.

And she wondered if her last bit of freedom was vanishing along with it.


	27. To Vega

The night had been quiet in the desert, as the stars moved above in the cloudless sky. The road had been mostly uneventful, with a smattering of abandoned cars here and there, some which had been burnt to a crisp. It wasn’t surprising to him, as he had seen much worse wreckage past the walls of Vega. The eightballs and humans alike had destroyed so much outside the settlement walls.

Alex glanced over at Noma who had fallen asleep as they drove towards Vega. She was curled up in her seat and looking beautiful as always. It had been difficult convincing him to _drive_ to Vega, but she made a good point. Flying into the settlement would only start an all-out war, with the two of them as the only casualties. They would be immediately shot out of the sky, or at the very least met with a full Archangel Corps “welcome party.” Alex had shouted and almost put his fist through a wall before he finally agreed with her. All he could do was think about Claire and their unborn child at the mercy of one of Gabriel’s acolytes. Noma had held fast though, threatening to leave him at the hotel altogether if he didn’t calm down.

Alex sighed as he looked at the road in front of him, the headlights illuminating only so far ahead of the truck. He regretted losing his temper. There was actual fear this time that Noma displayed for the briefest of moments. It wasn’t lost on him. At that very second, he reined himself in. Something had changed in him and he knew it, but he didn’t want her to be afraid of him. He would never do anything to hurt her or jeopardize her safety.

As a compromise, she agreed to fly at least half way there, knowing how much was at stake. Finding a working truck had been a whole other challenge, eating up more time and ratcheting his fear for Claire even higher. He had been quiet and not the most pleasant to be around for the past day or so. And yet Noma had been patient still, trying hard to distract him. As much as he had railed against the slow progression towards their destination, he had to admit that it had given him a lot of time to think. And perhaps just enough time to prepare himself for what was coming.

In the distance, Alex could see the sky slowly brightening, as the sun got closer to the horizon. Daybreak would be along soon. 

 

* * *

 

“You should slow down, Alex,” Noma suggested, lightly putting her hand on his arm.

Ever since the sun came up, Alex had been speeding faster and faster towards Vega. He could see it off in the distance and all he wanted to do was get there already.

“Slow down, Alex!” Noma slapped his arm.

“It’s fine, Noma!”

“It’s not fine! They see us already! You want them to shoot us before we even get there? Slow down!” Noma chastised.

He groaned and eased up on the pedal. She had a point.

The closer they got, the more he realized that something was different. He was expecting Archangel Corps to be there, guarding the gate and the walls. But what he wasn’t expecting was the black-clad soldiers holding heavy artillery and guarding the entrance with several trucks and gun turrets aimed at them. He slowed to a stop, far enough away to still make a hasty retreat if needed. 

“That’s different,” Noma said, more to herself. 

“DECLARE YOURSELF!” a voice echoed out over a loud speaker.

“Maybe we should leave,” Noma said, her hand gripping his arm. She probably didn’t even realize that she was holding on to him.

  
Alex rubbed her hand and then slowly pealed it off of his arm. “This is what we came for. I’m going out there. You stay here.” He glanced at her and then slowly slipped out of the truck, making no sudden movements.

“What? No!” Noma retorted, followed suit.

He walked out in front of the truck with his hands out, palms facing towards them, showing that he was unarmed. “ALEX LANNON.”

Stopping in front of the truck, he waited for Noma to stop beside him and put her own hands up, a wave of irritation and trepidation rolling off of her. He wondered if he was going to regret his actions, being at the mercy of whoever the black-clad soldiers were at the moment.

“STEP CLOSER. ONLY ALEX LANNON.”

He glanced at Noma who shook her head, again grabbing at his arm. “We need to find out what is happening, Noma.”

Sighing, she let go of him and he stepped forward, shouting, “WHERE IS THE LADY OF THE CITY?”

Slowly walking forward, he squinted at the wall of black and all of the guns facing him. Oddly, it didn’t frighten him. “WHERE IS CLAIRE REISEN?” He stopped, making sure to stand in front of Noma’s line of sight, hoping they would aim at him and not her if it all went sideways.

A different voice came over the speakers. A familiar voice. “ALEX LANNON, THE DESERTER RETURNED FOR REDEMPTION?”

Alex cringed. David Whele’s voice was dripping with derision as usual. There was movement by the gate, and Alex took a step back, wondering if they were about to be shot down. After a tense moment, two people revealed themselves. One of them moved out into the open while the other stayed close to the soldiers 

David Whele, cocky as usual, walked forward just enough to be distinct from the crowd. He had a smirk on his face as he studied Alex. “Why are you here, Alex Lannon?”

“Where is Claire?” Alex called out.

“It was stupid of you to return here! Especially with… with one of _them!_ ” David said, gesturing to Noma.

“Let me speak with Claire and we’ll be on our way!”

Angrily, David yelled, “You dare come here with an _angel??_ After everything that has happened??”

The tension among the soldiers seemed to increase with his every word, some taking a few steps forward with their rifles trained on their every movement 

Noma’s voice held a hint of panic as she suggested, “We should leave, Alex. This doesn’t feel right.”

Alex took another step back, feeling Noma’s hand on his back as he stepped closer to her.

“You have some nerve, Alex Lannon.” David put his hands on his hips; reining his own anger in. “And your precious Claire…” he shook his head.

“What? Where is she?” Alex tensed, wanting to step forward, but Noma held fast to his arm as she looked around her. The soldiers were moving, slowly surrounding them from all sides. 

David smiled at him, “You have no idea what’s been going on here.”

“Enlighten me then, Consul.” Alex spat.

“Claire hasn’t been seen for days. It seems she’s jumped ship.” David stood tall, staring at him.

“I don’t believe you!” Alex yelled. “Where is she?” he yanked away from Noma and rushed toward David, stopping just shy of him as two rifle barrels shoved right into his chest. But it didn’t stop his anger as he yelled at David, “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?”

David grinned at him, but it didn’t touch his eyes. In all his anger, Alex hadn’t noticed that David’s behavior was somehow…different. There was something wrong with the way he was acting. Brazen and arrogant was typical for Whele, but fear… there was fear behind those eyes. And not fear of Alex.

“What’s going on here? What happened, David?” Alex softened his voice, ignoring the guns shoving against him making him take a few steps back, creating more distance between the two.

David’s face betrayed him for a moment longer and then it was immediately covered up by a cocky grin. “You have no idea! Vega has become stronger, better even!”

Alex studied the soldiers standing close to him as he continued to keep his hands splayed out. Their faces were completely covered in black with only their eyes showing. The way they moved was different than the Archangel Corps that he was used to. They were fluid and seemed to move almost in unison. “What happened to the Corps?” he asked, glancing back at David.

David swallowed and then glanced back at the woman standing by the soldiers. The woman seemed familiar and then Alex realized it was Arika who stood out among the crowd, dressed in one of her dark purple flowing outfits. Alex could tell they were exchanging a non-verbal understanding, almost as if he were asking for her permission. Turning back to Alex, David responded, “We have heightened security after a string of threats against Vega. The Corps is still alive and well inside the city walls.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed as he noticed David’s brow sweating just a little bit despite the cold breeze that moved through all of them. Something was wrong with Vega and David was not at liberty to discuss it. Stepping back again, Alex and Noma tried to move closer to the truck, but the black-clad guard now surrounded them. There was no turning back.

“It seems you will be our guest now, Alex Lannon. And your angel friend will be as well.” David stepped back, making room for the two to walk past him and towards Arika. 

Neither of them trusted his words, both refusing to move forward. Noma’s hand tightened on Alex’s arm. “This is wrong, Alex.”

Arika’s voice rose over the distance. “If you fly now, you’ll not leave unscathed.”

Noma looked over at the woman and then glanced at the wall. It had reinforcements that were not there before. “She’s right,” she whispered to Alex.

Alex gave her a sideways glance and then turned back to David and Arika. The guard had moved closer, slowly ushering them along as Alex and Noma walked past David. Arika turned and sauntered through the entrance to Vega, her guard surrounding her at all times. The two of them followed behind her with their own entourage of guards.

And then all pretenses fell away. The onslaught happened swiftly. 

As soon as they passed the gate, Noma was yanked backwards, putting distance between her and Alex. Several guards overwhelmed her and quickly pulled her to the ground, attempting to put a black harness-like device on her torso. 

Before Alex could take a step toward Noma in order to help her, something sharp pricked the back of his neck. And then a heartbeat later, the world began to tilt. He stumbled for a moment and fell to his knees, watching blearily as Noma’s wings emerged and she knocked several of the guards away. 

A fleeting thought trickled past: _She’s a fighter_. He blinked, trying to clear his vision and stay upright, but his body felt heavier and heavier and soon the ground rushed up to meet him.

“ALEX!” Noma’s voice echoed in his mind as his eyes closed one more time.

* * *

The room was warm and welcoming. A small relief from the harsher elements that Alex had gotten used to. He was sluggish still from the drugs flowing through his veins. His lolling head was hard to keep upright as he sat on the couch they had dumped him on.

For a prisoner, they had treated him rather well. Blinking in the bright light, he looked across from him to find Arika sitting in an oversized ornate chair. Her legs were crossed, with her dress riding up just enough to show off the tops of her legs. Her hands were motionless on the armrest and she wore a small smile as she stared at him. The poise of an elegant woman, but the energy of a prowling cat.

  
It was fitting that David slowly paced behind her, oddly adding to the effect of her predatory nature. He didn’t look as calm and poised. If anything, the man looked anxious.

“Take your time, Alex Lannon,” Arika spoke as she continued to gaze at him. “That little wonder drug is a special concoction of my elite guard. It is long acting and is effective for interrogations such as this. Keeps you docile and compliant.”

Feeling as if he were sinking into the fabric of the couch, Alex tried to sit up only to find that his hands were in handcuffs linked to chain that lead further down, presumably to his ankles. He couldn’t tell because he couldn’t sit further forward. His body wouldn’t cooperate with him. The heaviness waxed and waned as he looked around, noticing a few of the guard standing nearby, ever ready.

“Where is Claire?” he slurred, finally able to get his mouth to work.

“We went over this, Alex,” David chimed in. “She’s gone missing. I gather she left when she had the opportunity. Probably shirking her duties, much like her father.”

Alex bristled. It made him angry that he would think so low of her, but he could only barely shift his body in response. “Where is Noma?” 

“Why have you returned, Alex?” Arika took control of the conversation. “Why have you brought an angel to my city?”

“Noma? What did you do with her?” Alex’s mouth was slowly working better than it had the moment before.

“She is fine. Safe.”

David shook his head. “Yes. Safely tucked away.”

Alex stared blankly at both of them. Since when had Vega become Arika’s city? What was going on here? He wondered if David was covertly trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t understand in his drug-addled state. “I worried for Claire, for the people of Vega.” He paused, assessing how much he should say. “Gabriel still has acolytes in the city. No one is safe here.”

Arika didn’t move. Her smile didn’t waver, but David stopped moving finally, fully studying him. “Acolytes? In the city?” A false laugh escaped him. “Clearly. The dead senators were our first clue.”

“What do you think they are after?” Arika asked quietly. She looked like she knew the answer and was only humoring him.

Alex moaned for a moment, frustrated by his situation. “Gabriel wants Vega for his resources, of course! The nuclear energy, Archangel Corps, the crops, all of it.”

David scoffed. “He won’t get it. None of this…the acolytes may try, but this…this isn’t happening.”

“He’s coming. And he will try to take over Vega,” Alex warned.

“Isn’t that what we’ve warned against for years?” David said with a dramatic sigh. “Luckily, Arika has been so gracious to assist us. Her guard has doubled our numbers in soldiers within the city walls. We’ll be ready for a war if need by. But it won’t come to that!” 

David sounded like he was in denial, but Alex could have sworn that he saw a shake of the man’s head. As if his own body was denying the words coming out of his mouth. His whole posture made him look defeated. As if he already had lost a war.

Alex glared at Arika. “You are not safe here! No one is safe here! And there is no way to know who is loyal to him.”

Arika smiled with a calm demeanor and glanced over at David who paced forward. “We have it sorted, don’t you agree, David?”

David stared at Alex, his eyes giving him a glimpse of the angst behind them. He blinked and then plastered a grin on his face. “Of course, we do, Arika.”

Alex stared up at him. “What is happening? Why are you both so calm?”

Arika nodded to someone behind him and suddenly hands were placed on Alex’s shoulders. They grabbed him roughly, yanking him upwards and onto his feet.

David called out, “Don’t fret! We’re perfectly safe here.”

“David! Don’t-“

“That’ll be all, Alex,” Arika cut him off. Still sitting in her chair, poised like a queen would.

Alex was dragged away and pulled into an elevator by three elite guards.

David followed behind them, looking down at the floor mostly. “You must trust in those in charge, Alex. Your well-being depends on it.”

Alex was roughly pulled into the elevator. He stared at David who paused just outside of the elevator doors. The guards held Alex tightly as he tried to move forward and hoarsely whispered, “Don’t do this! David, this is all wrong and you know it.” 

The doors began to close but just before Alex lost sight of him, David looked up and stared back at him. His tired blue eyes startled Alex with their defeated look, a glimpse of the man’s vulnerability. The grim expression on David’s face mirrored how Alex felt.

Helpless.

 

 


	28. The Calm

Stars glittered above New Delphi and the full moon illuminated the winding streets below. Footsteps echoed into the night as the Oracle Corps patrolled their assigned sections. They moved like clockwork, always punctual and always vigilant. The streets were otherwise empty as the citizens of the settlement abided the enforced curfew.

A patrol passed underneath a balcony set high above in one of the main buildings in the center of the city. Shirtless and barefoot, Michael rested his hands on the railing and watched as the soldiers passed. His astute eyes kept track of their movements as well as the next set of soldiers that passed by further down. He surmised that Oracle Corps had a strict schedule in order to keep New Delphi from falling back into its former chaotic state. Raphael had turned a lawless settlement into the military state that he saw before him, and he wasn’t sure if that was the better choice.

Michael shifted, looking up at the night sky. The moon was encircled by a halo of refracted light. The white light reminded him of his brethren; of the times of peace among the humans many years ago, when innocence was common and angels were known among the people. He closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the cool breeze that passed by, caressing his skin like a silk ribbon. Taking a deep breath, he listened to the night, the footsteps long gone and silence comfortably settling in. And then he heard the sheets rustling as someone moved inside the room behind him. Opening his eyes, he wondered if his companion was waking. 

Near the open French doors, there was a large bed with dark rumpled sheets that barely covered a fair-skinned angel. Lying face down with her smooth back exposed, Azrael clutched the sheets for a moment and then opened her eyes. She blinked and relaxed her hand and body as she slowly woke up. The dreams she’d been having were not always pleasant and it took a moment to remember where she was. She stared at the empty pillow next to her and wondered where Michael disappeared to. After a moment, she pushed herself upright. Glancing around the room, she noticed him standing on the balcony. 

Quietly, she slid off the bed and slipped out through the doors. Michael could hear her as she moved up behind him, and wasn’t surprised when her hands slid down the length of his back and then encircled his torso. She pulled his body against hers, their skin touching warmly as she held him close and laid her lips on the area between his shoulder blades. It was the small space between where his wings released. It was a sensitive spot and when she kissed him there, he closed his eyes, sighing as he relished the touch. After a moment, she rested her cheek against his back and continued to hold him in silence, her naked body pressed against him. 

She wondered why he was standing on the balcony instead of resting, but she knew that he was reticent by nature and probably contemplating the various angles of a new plan. Or perhaps he was again brooding on past misdeeds.

“Were you dreaming again, Azrael?” Michael’s rumbling voice broke into her own thoughts.

“They are becoming more frequent,” she murmured, her breath tickling his back.

Michael rubbed her hand lightly in a comforting manner, as he continued to stare out across the city. “Do you think Father is trying to tell you something?”

Azrael ignored his question for a moment, pressing her lips against the sensitive spot once more and derailing Michael’s thought process. A small sound escaped his lips and she couldn’t help but smile at his reaction.

“Mmm… I know what you are trying to do,” he whispered with his eyes closed. 

She slowly released him and stepped back, turning him towards her in the process. He opened his eyes and looked down at her with a small smile. “Is it working?” she asked and then leaned into him, pressing her nude body against the front of his. After lightly grazing her lips against his jawline, she softly pressed them against his.

Michael wrapped his arms around her and allowed for the distraction. They kissed for a moment, her hands straying up to run through his hair and then down his back. His body was lean and muscular, and yet smooth and warm under her fingertips. She understood why a human would want to be as close to him as possible with the way that his proximity affected her own body. It seemed to light a fire inside of her, something she wasn’t quite used to yet. Kissing him harder, she couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

Footsteps echoed through the streets below as another patrol of Oracle Corps started another loop through the city. Michael paused for a moment, smiling down at her. “We should return to bed.”

She smiled at him and stepped backwards, pulling him inside. She sat down on the bed and tried to pull him closer, but he studied her with a mildly absent look on his face, clearly contemplating something else. Her smile faded a little. “What are you thinking?”

“You are very distracting,” he said quietly. He remained out of arm’s length, as something continued to pester his mind.

Azrael understood what he meant and that the distraction wouldn’t help him at the moment. But it disappointed her. She wasn’t in the mood to be serious, but she pulled a sheet over her body and moved backwards so that she was leaning against a few pillows and the headboard. After a moment, he lay down next to her and stared at the ceiling.

“I’m not sure which is worse,” Michael said, thoughtfully. “Military controlled settlement such as New Delphi or the system implemented in Vega.”

“Raphael believed it would save more humans this way,” she responded, shifting to look at him and remembering to keep her hands to herself. She wanted to smooth his hair over, but she refrained. “He saw what I saw, Michael. That these people in this settlement only understood _force_. Force was law here.”

“So he became what they needed,” Michael stated, unfazed. It made sense to him. His brother would become what was needed to save them, even if it meant saving them from themselves. And perhaps completely changing his own nature. Ever the Healer.

Azrael nodded. “I have done what I can to assist him. But it makes no difference, really.”

Michael turned onto his side to study her. “No difference?”

“What Gabriel is doing…it makes no difference. Our creator will do as he pleases, you know that.” She looked at him, face stoic. “He can do as he wants. We are _His_ creatures. He is not beholden to _us_ , and we still have no idea where and why he has left us. Why our Home is falling to ruins. Perhaps he _was_ angered by the Morning Star or perhaps by the humans and their selfish ways. There is no way to know! So Gabriel’s crusade would bring Him no closer to home than if we laid down our arms, laid in the sand and waited!”

“And the humans have no greater part?”

“No greater than you or me. It makes no difference if they live or die.” Azrael finally blinked. Her expression was oddly fierce making it hard for Michael to read what she was feeling.

“And yet you have aided Raphael in saving them, chosen my side of this war,” Michael said, curious. “You could have easily stayed away, or perhaps sided with Gabriel. He would gladly use your… skills…to his advantage. You were once comrades, were you not?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, comrades. Comrades in arms… sure. During times of upheaval among the lowers. We were assigned together often, to dole out what was needed. But this…” She paused. “Gabriel is not what he once was either. The disappearance, the war…this world here…it has changed us. Changed our brethren.”

He reached over and took her hand in his, rubbing it lightly in a comforting manner. “It has. All of us.”

She slouched down a little more into the pillow she was leaning against. A slight shiver ran through her. “It would have been easier to stay away. To stay hidden.”

Michael propped his chin up with his other hand and quietly asked, “Why didn’t you?”

She looked at the dark-haired angel gazing back at her with his beautiful blue eyes. He had a soft expression as he waited for her answer. It was hard not to melt into him at that very moment. “How could I?” she said softly. “Could I really stay away from you?” Reaching up, she gently trailed her fingers down his cheek.

With a small amused smile, he asked, “So no choice, then?” 

She didn’t answer him, shifting her sheet so that she could slide down and move closer to him. He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her, pulling her against his body. They lay still for a moment, each thinking about their own past and their own decisions that led them to that moment.

Michael’s fingers trailed down her arm and back up again, absently stroking away as the wheels turned in his mind. “The scripture on Alex’s skin, you don’t think that is His message? A message for the way Home?”

She tipped her head back to look at him directly. “Do you believe he is the Chosen One? The one who fixes everything? Truly?”

“I believe it is a message from Father. Something that will make sense of our…” 

“-loss? The loss of Him?” Azrael interjected, propping herself up on her elbow. “Those words were meant for the Chosen One, to gain a sense of self, to understand his own nature, to find his own path. Only he can decipher what it will mean to him. And it may be the catalyst for the end.” She sighed. “Or perhaps the start of a new world. It could be the end of humanity or the beginning of something else entirely. Those words could drive him closer to Gabriel’s way of thinking. We do not know.”

“I must believe that he will be our salvation, Azrael,” he said softly, as he reached up to her face and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “That all of this…meant something. That it wasn’t just another…test.”

“And what if it is a test? A test we have all failed?” Azrael asked in a small voice, her eyes filled with a concern and fear that Michael had not seen in a long time.

Gently pulling her closer, he leaned up and lightly kissed her forehead. And then he grazed his lips across her cheek, moving toward her mouth. Tenderly, he briefly pressed his lips against hers as he smoothed her hair back. His own eyes were filled with as much emotion as hers.

“Then we are just as lost as we are now.”

 

 

 


	29. Rendezvous

Walking through the hallways during the dead of night was something Evelyn had always relished. There was an odd calm in the air and the knowledge that others were slumbering was comforting. As if she had moment to herself, to her own thoughts, to be herself without any witnesses. And although it took a moment to dismiss her guards, she was uninterrupted in her walk towards the Stratosphere.

Enforcing a curfew and using her own wardens had been key to taking over Vega. She smiled to herself as she walked. Evelyn had seen Consul Whele’s face, knowing exactly when it dawned on him that he had given her the keys to the settlement. She knew that taking over had been part of the plan all along. It had been a relatively fast progression without his realization until it was too late. Vega was now hers. All in good time.

Just outside the door to the chamber that formerly belonged to Archangel Michael, she paused and took a moment to compose herself. And then she opened the door and walked inside.

The room looked as it had when Michael was still occupying it. The long sheer curtains were fluttering with the light breeze from the open full-length windows. Her maroon dress flowed behind her as she made her way around the circular dais to the other side, where two ornate chairs sat just in front of an open oversized window. 

A bottle of wine and a filled wine glass occupied the decorative wooden table between the chairs. Someone sat in one of the chairs, casually sipping on a glass of his own.

With her usual grace, she sauntered over to the other chair and sat down. Her regal poise was apparent as she gazed at the occupant across from her. She carefully picked up the other glass and placed it to her lips, not wanting to be the one to start the night’s exchange.

“It seems you have been quite busy,” Gabriel’s voice rumbled with amusement. He took another sip and then smiled at her. He was at ease with his leg crossed over the other, lazing back and keenly taking her in. 

She took a sip of the wine and then carefully placed it back on the table. “Your plan has been going well.”

“It appears so, yes.”

She nodded. “And Uriel is on her way to Helena as promised.”

He grinned at her. “Yes. I know.”

She kept his gaze, succeeding in feigning calm. Over the years, Evelyn had perfected the guise of strength, never allowing others to see her true perhaps slightly more nervous state. Taking on the Arika personae had been oddly liberating. Meeting with Gabriel was a gamble and one that she was banking on. If she were in his good graces, she would be able to salvage what was left of those she was in charge of. As some of his acolytes had informed her, he would keep them safe when the true reckoning was upon them. Not that she was a true believer, but she knew that archangels were fickle. Uriel had made that abundantly clear.

He stared at her in that unnerving way of his and drank the rest of his wine. “How does the Chosen One fair?” he asked, pouring himself another glass.

She took a moment and picked up her glass. “He is secured as requested.”

He eyed her and took another gulp of wine as she did the same. The silence between them wasn’t exactly comfortable. He probed, “And the lovely Noma? Also in a cage?”

“Yes. Both are secured and being watched by my elite wardens.”

“Your wardens are properly…motivated?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

Amused, she smiled at him. “They are my most trusted wardens. Believe me, you would be impressed by how Helena trains them. Sense of self is no longer an option.”

He laughed. “Spoken like a true queen.”

She paused, wondering when Uriel had told him that she was not Arika. She gracefully stood up, finishing the glass of wine and placing it on the small table. It appeared as if she was leaving and Gabriel’s expression changed from amusement to disappointment.

But then she moved closer to him, taking the glass out of his hand and placing it next to hers. He smiled up at her, an eyebrow lifted in expectation.

In two fluid movements, she straddled the archangel and took his face into both of her hands, pausing with her lips hovering just over his. She searched his surprised eyes for any malicious change in energy as he sat frozen for a second.

“My, my. Uriel was right. You _are_ full of surprises.”

Evelyn’s lips curved up into a sly smile. “You have no idea.”

Gabriel recovered quickly by encircling her small waist and pulling her closer as she pressed her lips to his. Evelyn knew it was a risk that she was taking, thwarting Uriel’s own feelings for a chance to secure her position with the blonde archangel’s brother. But Evelyn needed to make sure that she would survive whatever chaos was coming. She was a survivor, first and foremost.

And the chaos _was_ coming. She was sure of it.


	30. Camp Fire

The sky was dark blue with just a hint of pink peaking from the horizon. It faded into the night’s darkness and the air rapidly grew crisp. An open flame was a welcome balm for those sitting near it in the middle of the desert. A caravan of assorted vehicles made a large circle around the bonfire, essentially creating a physical barrier to any that chose to stray too close. The mood was jovial with some playing dominos on a slab of wood precariously balanced on boxes near one of the big-rigs. Scattered across the clearing, the usual cats were hurling insults and jokes back and forth while cleaning their weapons. And dinner was already served to those in charge. They sat picking at the remnants on a long banquet table covered in candles and used plates. 

Jackson was strumming his guitar while lounging on the hood of his pickup truck, ignoring the hushed discourse at the large table. His dark-brown wavy hair hung limply in his eyes as he concentrated on the strings. It had been a grueling few weeks of constant travel and he knew that pushing forward would eventually break them. He had advocated for the small respite in the clearing. They all needed a moment to sleep, think, and breathe without rushing off somewhere. Even the winged ones were exhausted.

He leaned his head back and stared up at the clear sky. The moon was a sliver of light and the stars were glinting in the darkness. It was a peaceful moment and he would relish it. The rest of their people would be arriving the next morning and then in another day or so they would be on their way again. The way of the nomadic people. Only this time, they had a destination.

Something moved among the stars, dark and fast.

Immediately, Jackson sat up, dropping the guitar and going for his rifle. “Incoming!” he yelled.

And before he could blink once more, Azrael landed in the middle of the clearing. Her dark blue wings immediately disappeared as she glanced around at the circle of weapons suddenly pointed at her. No one fired a shot, however, recognizing the angel who was fully decked out in battle gear. She scanned the crowd then lingered on Jackson, lifting an eyebrow in response to his shotgun. He didn’t flinch, though; instead he slid off of his truck and slowly advanced toward her.

“I’m not here for you,” she said, quietly. Turning away from him, she briskly walked over to the banquet table. Its occupants remained still as the others drew closer, guns still trained on the angel.

Jackson followed behind her. “You could have given us some warning.”

Azrael ignored him and looked at the three people sitting at the table. One of them was formally known as the General of House Riesen. He looked paler than the last time she had seen him, but otherwise seemed no worse for wear. Perhaps life with the Camp agreed with him. The last time she had seen him, he had been at death’s doorstep. Raguel had requested Raphael’s presence in order to heal him. Of course, Raphael required something in return. Weapons and alcohol went a long way with the archangel. How far the Healer had fallen.

Across from him sat one of the Cradle’s Rebel leaders, Dutch. He was a burly man with a smart mouth and a mean scar that ran down the left side of his face. He grinned at her as he precariously balanced his chair on its back two legs. “Well look what the cat dragged in… Hello, Angel of Death. Whose heart have you come to break this time?” 

The woman sitting next to him smacked his arm. “Knock it off, Dutch.”

Dutch teetered dangerously close to falling and righted himself at the last minute while giving her a scowl.

The wizened woman had a hard edge to her with her salt and pepper hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had both the look of an experienced military commander as well as the gentle wise Elder of her tribe. She looked at Azrael with a neutral expression. “Is Raguel expecting you?”

“No, she is not.” A voice responded from behind the three of them. 

Azrael looked past them to find someone emerging from the tented area behind the table. 

A tall angel moved leisurely into the open, wiping her hands clean on a small hand towel. With light brown skin and wild curly red hair grazing just above her shoulders, Raguel had a harder time blending in with humans than her other archangel brethren. She towered over most of them and often had an eerily serene exterior, making most humans feel uncomfortable in her presence. It would seem that she was too placid, but the archangel could dole out her own brand of justice when needed. 

Her oversized black eyes pierced Azrael as she approached the banquet table. “You’re too early. What news are you bringing, Azrael? Has Raphael changed his mind?”

Lowering his shotgun, Jackson circled past the warrior angel and stood near his tall leader. 

Azrael stared at the two of them. It wasn’t that long ago that Jackson would have sided with her against Raguel. How times had changed. “The time has been moved up. Ready yourselves, and tell the others to hurry. By morning light, you need to move.”

Jackson looked to Raguel as if he were waiting for her orders. The archangel stared at Azrael with that eerie stillness. “And you’ve confirmed the Chosen One’s presence?”

“Would I deceive you?”

“Yes. Yes, you would.” Raguel dropped her towel on to the table. “The chance that Gabriel will finally stop this madness, even the smallest chance that his anger can be quelled… it is the main reason that any of the higher angels will join the fight. They’ve had enough.” She paused. “I do this only for Raphael and Michael. I do this to find peace. Can you say the same?”

Azrael smiled. “I wouldn’t expect you to do it for me.”

Jackson glared at her. “And why should she ever believe a word coming from your mouth?”

Azrael’s smile faded as she visibly ignored him. “Ready them, Raguel. Do it for them.” She glanced at Jackson. “Do it for _him_.”

Raguel didn’t stir as Azrael stepped back and released her wings, flapping them once, purposefully stirring up the sand. She stared at Jackson with a cold expression and then shifted focus, glancing around at the tense faces.

“It is time.”

A moment later, she took to the air, speeding off into the sky, and leaving the Camp to ready themselves for war.


	31. Battle Ready

Curtains fluttered as a robust wind blew through the room and over Michael’s naked prone body. The sound of loud footsteps echoed throughout the streets below and rebounded off the walls, causing him to rouse from his sleep. Blinking the remnants of a dreamy fog from his eyes, he looked over at the empty spot next to him. He let out a groan, clutching his pillow for a moment as he snuggled into its softness and tried to go back to sleep. Except, after a moment, he found it to be a lost cause. Sighing, he released the pillow and opened his eyes to stare at the empty spot. He knew that Azrael probably disappeared to deal with New Dephi business, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

Leisurely, he turned onto his back and stretched for a moment. A sudden sound of commotion outside made him jolt upright. Perhaps it was time to see where Azrael had gone. Curious, he got out of bed and dressed quickly.

~~~~**D**~~~~

Several soldiers rushed down the hallway, hurriedly passing Michael as the archangel strode towards the door of Raphael’s office. He wondered what had transpired and why there was a heightened energy throughout the building. Pausing in the open doorway, he watched as Raphael paced with a walkie in his hand, barking out commands to someone on the other end. He sounded agitated and responded abruptly, “We need those supplies. Just arrange it!”

He groaned as the walkie clicked off and paced over to his desk. A soldier waited patiently nearby with a few sheets of paper. Raphael hurriedly signed them and then shoved them back into the soldier’s hands. “Go! Get it together.”

The soldier immediately left the room, barely glancing at Michael who slowly paced his way in. Other soldiers were in the seating area, discussing something in hushed tones.

“What’s going on?” Michael asked, standing rigidly across from his brother.

More soldiers flowed in and out of the room, volleying questions and getting answers while Raphael fielded more inquiries over his walkie.

“RAPHAEL!” Michael tried once more. “Where is Azrael?”

The soldiers glanced up at Michael, wondering if they needed to be on alert, but Raphael continued on as if he hadn’t heard his concerned brother. A voice came over the walkie once more, responding to an earlier question. “Max Boss, earliest at first light.”

Raphael groaned and then responded, “Fine. Posthaste.” He slammed the walkie down and leaned over his desk, surveying the map, only to glance up a moment later to find his brother glaring down at him.

“What is happening?” Michael attempted to remain calm, but the frantic energy in the room had made him alarmed.

“You knew about this!” Raphael’s venomous tone resonated through the room.

Michael’s head tilted a little, giving him an inquisitive look.

With a small nod from Raphael to one of the soldiers, the room cleared immediately and the two angels were left alone with just the walkie chirping as an occasional interruption.

“Vega is under siege. Rapidly taken over by Arika and Helena’s elite guard.” Raphael straightened to his full height. “And Uriel has betrayed us all.”

“Taken over? Uriel? Betrayed how?” Michael’s eyes narrowed.

“Our sister has been playing her own little game. Taking Vega was a power move,” Raphael spat out.

“A move for what? She would have no reason to take Vega.”

“Unless she is in league with our brother.” Raphael crossed his arms.

Michael jerked forward, angered at the thought of Uriel betraying him. “She wouldn’t!”

“She already did!” he yelled. “She’s been toiling her days away with Queen Evelyn in Helena. Looking out for her own interests! Typical behavior for our lovely sister. But you must have known this already?”

“Only just so. I had no idea she was scheming with the ruler of Helena in order to take control of Vega. It makes no sense. Why _would_ she side with Gabriel? Uriel was so sure of the Chosen One, so sure that Father would return soon!” Michael spat out.

“It makes perfect sense. She has lied and conspired to get her way before. You’ve been blind to it for some reason. And Gabriel will take what he can and ruin it all. The nuclear reactor will be the final straw.”

Michael’s concern was mounting. He stared at his brother for a moment, weighing the veracity of his words. “Did you send Azrael into the fray?”

“Azrael is fine. She is…taking care of an errand,” Raphael said as he sat down at his desk, leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his face and groaned. “This is going to be bloody, Michael.”

“What have you done, brother?”

“We’re moving forward. Our sources can only tell us so much, but if we wait long enough, Gabriel will take over. Arika has been with Uriel and she is not to be trusted.” Raphael sighed. “It’s time. There is no more waiting. No more waiting for the Chosen One or for anyone else.”

“So you’ll descend on Vega and take it by force? Isn’t this exactly what Gabriel would do?” Michael spat out.

“Uriel is not on our side. When will you _see_ that? And Vega has _already_ been taken!” Raphael growled as he slapped his hand on the desk. “There won’t be peace when Gabriel shows up in Vega and takes over the nuclear plant! There will only be destruction!”

“And what about Alex? Have you given up on the scripture too?”

Raphael stood up, the anger and frustration beginning to boil over. “That was _your_ priority, not mine! I’m doing what I can to make this right. The feuding needs to stop. Between people, between settlements, between siblings! Peace needs to happen and then… and only then, can we really hope to bring back Father!”

Michael stilled. The room went silent as the two brothers stared at each other, both realizing the weight behind Raphael’s words.

And then Michael stepped closer. The compassion for his brother’s longing to be Home could only go so far. “This is your version of what Gabriel is doing. Do you not see that? Forcing them to fight for your version of peace? How is that going to solve anything?”

“It has become abundantly clear to me over all of these years that _this_ …” he paused to gesture at his sword hanging on the wall behind him. “ _This_ is the way of life among humans. This is the only thing they understand. Without the fear of pain and extinction, they would continue to feud amongst themselves. To tear apart their own lives. And Gabriel has fed on that. It is his game.”

“Father’s words will make sense of this,” Michael said quietly, not disagreeing with his brother’s assessment. He had seen enough to know that human beings can be cruel creatures.

Raphael shook his head and sat back down. Running his fingers through his hair, he said with exasperation, “We are no better than the humans, Michael. Gabriel has shown us that.” He looked up at his brother, propping his chin up, his elbow on the desk. “He would do anything to bring Father back, to destroy whatever keeps us from going Home and having what we once had.”

Michael saw the raw emotion in his brother’s teary eyes, and quietly responded, “Alex is probably heading to Vega, if he hasn’t already arrived there. He will fight Gabriel.”

“Or he will join him.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? What aren’t you telling me?”

Raphael slapped the desk with a jolt, causing Michael to blink. “HE IS THE SON OF THE MORNING STAR! What do you _think_ Gabriel is banking on? The stronger the Chosen One gets, the closer he gets to his powers, the more likely he will lose control!”

“But those are Father’s words on his body! How can it be anything else but our salvation? If only we choose wisely!” Michael restrained himself, his hands balled into fists. “What if all of this is a test and we are failing miserably?”

“Then so be it! Go! Find Alex! Do what you please! This is what’s happening. We’re moving out tonight. Without the Chosen One, without the almighty Archangel Michael.” Raphael glared at his brother. “We will have peace, damn it! If I have to kill Gabriel myself!”

Michael stared at him. It was a terrible declaration to want to kill their own brethren, but his brother wasn’t wrong. The war would end with Gabriel’s demise. But that Raphael, who was once a healer and often the peacekeeper amongst them, would fall so far to crave his brother’s blood, _that_ was most disconcerting.

Without another word, Michael stepped away from him. He had remained complacent for too long and allowed his own self-wallowing to interfere with his main objective. And now they were on the brink, and he was playing catch up.

Chastising himself, he stepped out onto the terrace and released his wings. Stepping onto the ledge, he looked at the streets below. The Oracle Corps was gathering and trucks were pulling up to the building. Raphael was amassing those that would follow him to Vega. Michael’s feathers quivered in the breeze.

Before taking to the air, he took one last glimpse at his brother. Raphael stared back at him, unmoving. Exhaustion exuded from the angel and Michael felt sorry for him. What had they all become? When would it all end? Only pain and despair answered their questions.

Michael flapped his wings once and called out, “Perhaps there is another way. Be well, Raphael. May Father return soon.”

Before Raphael could respond, he stepped off of the edge of the building, relishing the air as it rushed through him. With great panache, he dove down over the crowd of Oracle Corps and then banked around one of the buildings, leaving the alarmed soldiers to scramble for their weapons, too little, too late. He couldn’t help but smile as he soared over the settlement, taking note of just how large it actually was. Within moments he took to the cloud line and disappeared into the darkness, off to find the one that may still hold their salvation.


	32. Pudding

_Don’t trust them! Claire wake up! They’re coming…_

Waking with a jolt, Claire found herself lying on her side. She was covered by a maroon blanket, soft and fluffy, and oddly comforting. Her sight was blurry for a moment, becoming clearer as she blinked and then stared at the ornate bedroom wall. Remaining still, she allowed herself a moment to let the nightmare go. The dreams were plaguing her nightly, and at times she couldn’t tell if she was awake or still dreaming. Touching her slightly swollen abdomen, she closed her eyes again, willing away the last echoes of Alex’s voice by thinking of her old bedroom in Vega.

The crisp air smelled like ocean and the sizeable room was bathed in sunlight. It was an inviting space, ornately decorated with splashes of gold and maroon, and had ceiling-to-floor French doors that opened out to a terrace. For a prison cell, it wasn’t all that terrible.

And yet, this was not her home.

Since arriving in Helena, Claire had felt even more exhausted than before. It was as if she were being drained from the inside out. Being in Helena was strange and overwhelming. The various haikas were beautiful and astounding, and they wore colors that dictated their social standing, something she realized quickly by the way that Laurel treated them. The men were few and far between and she had a feeling that they were tucked away on purpose. 

The delicious food was abundant to her, but she had the feeling that there were many that were starving, despite having only seen some parts of the settlement upon their arrival. Since then, she had been secluded inside the house on the hill, overlooking the ocean and removed from the rest of the denizens of Helena. 

Lying motionless for a moment more, she attempted to ignore the bizarre creeping sensation that someone else was in the room with her. It was odd and she had felt it before, so she struggled to ignore it. Except it wouldn’t go away, and the adrenaline began mounting inside of her. 

And then someone moved.

Sitting up quickly and turning to the source, she found an archangel sitting at the table by the open French doors. Her heart hammered in her chest as she glanced at Laurel standing just outside the doors on the terrace, wringing her hands. Her blonde hair was disheveled and she looked as if she had been in a scuffle. 

Gabriel had his feet kicked up on another chair and he was using his fingers to eat chocolate pudding out of a small plastic cup. Two more filled cups sat on a silver serving tray next to Claire’s cold uneaten breakfast. The archangel relished every moment of his pudding, and barely acknowledged Claire’s existence. After a moment, he finished and eyed the empty cup with a sigh.

Claire slowly got out of her bed, hoping to stand tall while facing the archangel. She noticed the blonde behind him shifting her weight. Something definitely happened between the two of them. Perhaps she had displeased him?

“You must know how lucky you are to be here in Helena.” Gabriel said, shifting his focus to Claire. “It’s such a lovely establishment. Very easy to slip into.”

“Yes. Lovely for a prison,” she said with a hint of venom. She wasn’t sure what was happening or why Gabriel decided to show up in person. She had attempted to give Laurel the slip after seeing her secret meeting with Furiad, only to find herself face down in the dirt with an abnormally strong priestess sitting on her back. She was warned that bodily harm was not above the other woman’s capabilities, and Claire decided then that she would rather not risk the possibility of a miscarriage or other harm to herself by attempting to flee. Helena would possibly bring other opportunities for Claire. She hoped.

She had been treated fairly since that moment, as if Laurel was afraid to overstep orders. And she expected that at some point the archangel would tip his hand and show his true purpose for her current situation.

“It does help if you know the queen.” Gabriel grinned at her, as if he knew some kind of joke that she was not aware of. “Lovely Uriel here has done well, bringing you to Helena for rest and recuperation in the crisp ocean air. I made sure that my sister would keep you safe.” 

“Your sister? Safe?” Claire repeated, stalling to give herself time to let his words sink in. She looked at Laurel and realized how wrong she was. The woman was no priestess. The sudden strength in the woman made more sense now. “You’re an angel?”

Gabriel laughed. “Claire, really? Were you truly fooled all this time?”

Claire’s eyes narrowed as she returned her focus on him. A fire of adrenaline was racing through her. “Safe? I’m actually safe here?”

“Brother, do not mock her.” Uriel smoothed her hair, still looking harassed and exasperated.

His chuckling subsided. “No one will harm you here, Claire. You are safe,” he said with reassurance. “You are safe… for now.”

Claire moved closer. “Why am I here?” 

Gabriel moved his legs off the chair and sat forward, the intensity in his eyes increased. “Do you know what is growing inside of you, Claire? Do you understand the severity of your situation?”

“Why am I in Helena, Gabriel?”

“You have no idea, do you,” he asked with an exaggerated sigh. Leaning back again, he picked up a second cup and sniffed it. “The child you carry is the Chosen One’s child. A very special child. A _not-all-together-human_ child.”

Claire held her breath for a moment. She knew that Alex was the Chosen One, but was there something more? Could he be more than human? What did Gabriel know?

“Has Alex ever spoken of his father?” he asked, as he dipped his finger into the pudding.

Claire didn’t respond, glancing at Uriel who almost imperceptibly shook her head. For the first time, Claire realized that Uriel was just as afraid as she was.

Gabriel licked his finger and continued, ignoring the quickening of Claire’s heart rate. “One could suppose that Alex is special because of the blood that runs through his veins. His father’s blood. The blood that is not human, but very much angel.” He glanced at Claire finally, studying her as he devoured the pudding cup. “The blood that now runs through your unborn child. Such a child would be quite special, wouldn’t you agree? Who knows what latent powers would be imbued upon him. Or her.”

Claire stood tall with her chin lifted up in defiance against the archangel. “If you think you have any control-”

“I have all the control here and you’ve already come to that conclusion. Let’s not pretend any differently.” Gabriel licked his fingers while staring at her without blinking. “You will stay here, hidden away until it is the right time. Alex will be much more…agreeable if he knows you are in my…care.” He grinned at her with that dark twinkle in his eye. “He will bend willingly.” 

Claire felt like she had been slapped in the face. The gravity of her situation was not lost on her, but if Uriel looked just as afraid as she felt, then clearly this was much worse than she could have imagined. If only she could communicate with Alex and let him know what was happening. Gabriel’s plans were indecipherable and she had no way of knowing what was coming their way. 

Dropping the second empty cup on the table, Gabriel abruptly stood up. “Enjoy your stay at Chez Helena.” Not giving Claire a second glance, he dismissed her existence as he walked over to the French doors. Towering over Uriel, he gently touched a strand of her hair, as she stood frozen in place.

With a menacing tone, he demanded, “Make sure she remains secured.” He paused and took one last glance at Claire. “We wouldn’t want her wandering off.” Uriel nodded and Gabriel pressed past her, moving outside onto the terrace. A second later, his wings emerged and he took off into the air, disappearing into the white clouds above.

Claire focused on the archangel left behind, but Uriel stepped further away from her. She was devoid of emotion as she stared at Claire and reached for the French doors. The only thing that betrayed her inner turmoil was the slight tremor in her hands. With one last glance at her, Uriel silently closed the French doors, muting the sound of the ocean and Claire’s sense of freedom.

The blonde archangel turned away, leaving the Lady of Vega alone in her would-be prison, clenching her fists and drowning in her own thoughts of despair. Alex’s voice echoed in Claire’s mind once more…

... _my son…_

 

 


	33. Surrounded

He knew that it had been a gamble to begin with. This life that he had fought so hard to obtain had required ruthlessness, something he found inside himself right about the time the eightballs descended upon the world. He wasn’t exactly spineless before the world went to hell, but he hadn’t realized the depths to which he would sink in order to protect what was his and his alone. 

Much like the glass sitting in front of him, David Whele felt empty. The constant stress of his world ending around him was taking its toll. What he had done in his past was not something he would ever be proud of. The things he had done to survive…he sighed.

He picked up the nearby decanter and refilled his tumbler. It was early that morning. The morning he was truthful with himself. The morning where he admitted to himself that he had absolutely _no_ control over anything that was happening. His life was useless. His son was gone. The city he had fought for was no longer his.

Arika had seen to that. The Helena elite warden squad had already secured all of Vega with one full swoop. And _he_ allowed it to happen. He invited this… this _snake_ to slither into his city. His craving for a power alliance had been too strong.

He picked up the tumbler, studying its content.

“Breakfast?” Arika’s voice broke into his thoughts as she walked by him and sat down at the oversized dining table. She arranged herself as a queen would, with grace and fluidity. A moment later, a servant placed a platter of food in front of her and a champagne flute.

David looked at the woman sitting in front of him and plastered a grim smile on his face. “Who needs food, when you can drink?”

She daintily used both fork and knife as she worked her way through breakfast. All the while, she studied the broken man in front of her. He looked worse for wear, the lines on his face more pronounced than usual in the stark streaming sunlight.

“It seems you have an endless supply of that lovely concoction. Helena has its own supply of enjoyable elixirs, but Vega’s whiskey is quite…different. You must tell me how you come by such lovely drinks?” she said with a smile.

David couldn’t help but think of a cat that had just eaten the canary. There was a smugness on her face that made his skin crawl. He wasn’t sure what her plan was for Vega, but he knew that it might not include him. It had occurred to him before that his days were numbered. His hand clutched the tumbler as he abruptly stood up. His entire body was screaming at him to flee, to save himself. 

Looking around, he noticed that her black-clad elite wardens were slowly surrounding them. When had they arrived? He had not seen them a moment ago. Gulping down the rest of the whiskey and then putting the glass on the table, he eyed Arika as she quietly ate her breakfast. 

“Tell me, when did you find out?” Arika asked with certainty. 

David exhaled an abrupt laugh and then stilled for a moment, weighing her words. 

“Your soldiers were a bit of a give away,” David said with a sarcastic overtone. “This was your plan all along, wasn’t it, Arika?” he paused, chiding himself internally. “I should probably address you as Evelyn.” 

She smiled at him and picked up the champagne flute. “I think I’ve become accustomed to Arika.”

He glanced around at the guards. “So because I know who you are, you’re going to get rid of me now?” He shook his head, brain scrambling quickly to find a way out. He always found a way. Always. “I could be your greatest ally, Queen Evelyn. Had you trusted me to begin with…” 

“You played the part I needed you to, David,” she said as she took a sip of her champagne. “And now you are no longer needed.”

David’s face was frozen in a grim smirk. He knew this was coming. “I’ll leave.”

She smiled at him and sat back. “I realized the moment that you knew, David. You are quite adept at covering your true intentions. However, I’ve dealt with you long enough to see when that small change happened. It was a small expression on your face that was easily and quickly covered by your diversionary tactics. But mostly, it was the way that you so easily acquiesced to everything I asked for. Things that would never be in your best interest, and yet…. suddenly you were so agreeable and supporting of me.” She paused, gazing at him thoughtfully. “I was waiting for when things were more…solidified in my stronghold of Vega.” 

He let out a mirthless chortle. “So my need to survive became my undoing.” 

“So it appears.” She gave a small, almost imperceptible, nod to someone behind him. 

David’s heart raced as he turned around. One of the elite wardens stood directly behind him and he immediately jerked away, turning quickly back to face the queen. “Your highness, _please_. I beg of you! I will leave! You will never hear from me again!” 

Evelyn laughed. Standing up, she walked around the table to face him directly, holding her champagne flute idly in her hand. “Ever the survivor. You would stop at nothing to save yourself. Even your own city. You would give anything, wouldn’t you? Your loyalties are fleeting.” She considered him for a moment longer. “It’s unfortunate.” 

Her guard quickly produced a baton, smacking David in the back of his knees, causing him to fall onto them. His cry of pain was short-lived as the warden grabbed him around the neck and began squeezing. David’s mind raced as he tried to find _any_ exit strategy. On his knees in front of the royal queen of Helena, _he_ , Consul of Vega, was going to die in such an undignified manner? There must be another way. A frustrated gurgle escaped his lips. 

Evelyn placed the drink on the table and stood witness to his slow demise. It didn’t stop him from struggling. He lashed out, causing a second warden to restrain his arms. It was a slow agonizing way to go and David fleetingly thought she must have wanted him to suffer.

The small smile on her face confirmed his suspicions.

  
And then the sirens began to wail. 

Vega’s security system kicked in and the room’s alarm lights began flickering. The Wall’s sirens loudly echoed throughout the streets and reverberated into the room. It startled Evelyn from her calm exterior, causing her to drop the champagne glass. Suddenly alert, she flicked her palm out to her wardens and they immediately let go of the struggling man, leaving him to collapse to the floor.

Within minutes, the room was clear of everyone except for David. Gasping on the floor, he wondered what had given him the reprieve. Evelyn could have just as easily ordered for his neck to be quickly snapped before leaving the room. Perhaps she believed he would still be useful in the coming days.

Pushing himself upright, his face was flushed and the look of terror was still fresh. He would not be around to find out what further plans she had for him when the dust settled. Slowly standing up, he scanned the doors to the room as he caught his breath. He hoped that the peculiar wardens in black would be occupied for a time.

The alarm lights continued to flicker. 

* * *

 

Inside the war room, the energy was frantic. Surrounded by her ever-present wardens, Evelyn rushed in, moving around the room to the multiple monitors that displayed images of the desert as well as the roads leading into Vega. On several displays, images of billowing sand kicked up from the desert could be seen, along with an oncoming convoy of trucks and military vehicles. 

Evelyn stopped moving, eyeing the area above the billowing sand on the screen. She pointed to it and demanded, “Zoom in on that. In the air just above.”

The nearby tech assistant did as she was told, zooming in on the indicated spot. Evelyn held her breath as she watched the images grow larger.

A sky full of winged beings, all headed straight for Vega.

The room went silent as everyone stared at the images, allowing for the moment to sink as they realized what was coming for them. Shifting back, Evelyn knew what it meant, however, it was happening sooner than she expected. Immediately, she ordered, “Start the Phaser. We’ll be implementing the Raven protocol. Now!”

The Queen of Helena crossed her arms and hoped that she had not made the wrong choice. She knew that Gabriel was not exactly trustworthy and it was all a gamble. Either way, it was going to hurt. 

But she planned to be alive enough to feel the pain.

 

 

 


	34. Released

Breathless, David rushed down the long corridor. It was difficult as the rest of Vega pushed passed him, streaming in the opposite direction. He paused to lean against the wall for a moment and catch his breath. He wasn’t sure if what he was about to do really was the right play. His hands were still trembling as they had been since the sirens began. This city… _his_ city was under duress. And he had let the devil in, invited her to take over the whole damn settlement. 

Chastising himself again, he shook his head as he attempted to remain calm. Ultimately, nothing was going to make much of difference if he didn’t move. So he started sliding against the wall, trying to remain inconspicuous while the soldiers rushed by and the sirens wailed on.

* * *

The cell had been cold and dank. Just as Alex remembered it. The sirens were deafening, echoing through the prison walls and reverberating into his chest. The guards immediately disappeared and left the prisoners to fend for themselves. Alex knew that those sirens meant war. And angels.

He needed to find Noma and get out of Vega before he got pulled into the middle of it. As if the Chosen One could disappear from an all-out war that he was _already_ in the middle of? He scoffed at his own ridiculous thought, pausing in the middle of his pacing. He had tried to unlock the gates on his own, using whatever bizarre powers he had at the moment, but they wouldn’t work on command and he instead ended up frustrated and exhausted.

Pacing seemed to be the one thing he could do, as he thought about his situation. Most likely Noma would be taken to the same facility that Gabriel had been placed in. Which didn’t bode well for Noma.

“It seems the supposed _Chosen_ _One_ has found himself in a rough spot. Yet again.” A familiar voice echoed through the cell, making Alex pause mid pace. He turned to find David standing by the cell door, peering in through the small barred opening. 

Alex rushed over to the door and asked, “What’s happening out there? Who is attacking Vega?”

David gave him his typical smug look, not quite responding and then disappeared from view. Frustrated, Alex yelled after him, “Gabriel’s army is coming and you have no idea what you’re doing! You have no idea what you’re up against!”

A moment went by, leaving Alex clenching his fists and trying hard to concentrate on the lock once more, hoping that whatever was going on with his body’s powers would finally unlock the damn contraption. He groaned when nothing happened and then let out a yell of frustration as he threw his hands in the air and turned away.

Something clicked and then the door opened on its own.

Alex’s heart stopped for a moment, wondering how he had been able to do that. And then David Whele stepped into the vacant doorway. “Are you going to stay in here all day, or does the Chosen One need an invitation to leave his prison cell?” he said in that condescending way of his.

Almost yelping with joy, Alex pushed passed him, pausing only to clap him on the shoulder as a manner of thanks before moving through the prison halls. David quickly followed after him, mildly out of breath. “Where are you going to go?”

Alex didn’t answer at first, checking for more soldiers, only to find the hallways empty. “Everyone must be at the walls,” he said more to himself. 

“I can show you a way out of the city,” David offered, which made Alex pause and turn to him.

The blonde-haired man grabbed the older one by the collar of his shirt and shoved him roughly against the wall. “What do you gain out of helping me? I can’t imagine you’d do anything out of the goodness of your heart!”

David stammered, showing real fear in his eyes which Alex found unnerving. “I only ask that I come with you when you leave. I can be useful to you.”

Alex glared at him. “Useful? Doubtful.”

David stared at the Chosen One. He seemed genuinely broken as he whispered, “Please, Alex.”

Alex shoved the man backwards and kept silent, ignoring David’s unanswered plea. He slipped out through the door and started down an empty corridor.

David exclaimed, “Wait! You can’t get out that way! The whole city is on lockdown.”

“I need to find Noma,” Alex responded and continued to jog down the long corridor. David reluctantly trailed behind him, wondering if he’d be better off disappearing on his own.

* * *

The restraints weren’t exactly painful, but the constant hum of the electric field around her was starting to grate on her nerves. Noma sat inside the middle of the containment ball that oddly reminded her of a big soccer ball. Or perhaps more like one of those round plastic balls that pets were often placed inside of in order to roam about their master’s rooms. She had a flash of what humans were like back before the angels descended on the Earth.

Her wings were aching to come out, to be stretched, but the strange harness on her chest was confining, giving her a little electric buzz anytime her shoulders twitched and the threat of wings was imminent. It was exhausting.

Meanwhile, her once friend, Ethan stood just outside of her prison, ignoring her as if she were his biggest foe. The two other soldiers remained motionless, ignoring her as well as each other. Independent silent sentries.

At first Noma tried to speak to Ethan, but the look on his face gave her pause. He looked hurt and betrayed by her presence. She tried to convince him that she was still the same person, just… a little more winged. And older. Much older. It was the same look Alex had given her when he had found out. Only Alex had gotten over it while Ethan clearly hadn’t. His hatred for angels was palpable.

She sat with her knees bent and her hands resting lightly on them, trying hard to meditate and keep calm. Since the sirens began, her entire body had tensed and it was difficult to relax. Gabriel must be close, which didn’t bode well for anyone. Perhaps Alex could escape before it came to that.

“Don’t come any closer!” Ethan’s shocked voice accompanied the click of several rifles readying to be fired.

Noma turned to find Alex standing not far from Ethan, his hands fully splayed out. David Whele stood in the background, his own hands out in surrender. She stood as quickly as the contraption on her torso would allow. “Alex!” she said out of breath, the electric current zinged through her as her shoulders involuntarily shrugged, tricking the device into thinking her wings would release. “What are you doing here? You should go!”

“I’m not leaving you here!” Alex called out.

Ethan stared at Alex, conflicted. His rifle was aimed at his friend’s chest. “You shouldn’t be here, Alex!”

“You know this is wrong, Ethan.” Alex took a step forward but the other two soldiers were now moving closer, both rifles also trained on him.

“So you’re really the Chosen One?” Ethan asked.

Alex looked pained. “Let me just take her out of here. I know how you feel about angels.”

“You were my friend and you couldn’t tell me?” Ethan asked.

“Stop moving!” one of the soldiers said, shifting focus to David who had moved closer.

“Everyone needs to calm down,” David said. “We’re here on Arika’s official orders. You are to release her into our custody.”

“What?” Ethan shook his. “That can’t be. Why would she release Alex?”

“Because I’m on your side,” Alex said, as he moved closer to Ethan.

The two soldiers looked at each other, weighing his words. 

“Do you want to keep Arika waiting?” David asked, feeling impatient as his dread continued to ratchet up with every passing moment.

Ethan studied Alex’s face and then lowered his rifle. “Come on guys, you heard them. Time to release her.”

He turned around just in time to find one of the soldiers changing aim, pointing a rifle at him. Ethan’s quick reflexes kicked into gear, instantly disarming the soldier. He turned to find the other soldier on the floor unconscious and Alex stepping away from the prone body. His friend quickly moved to the main control box for Noma’s prison ball.

“How do you release her?” Alex asked, a bit frantic.

Ethan wondered if he was making the right choice as he flipped off the panel safety and put in the correct release code. “Please tell me Arika really did release you and I’m not actually helping you escape your prison with an angel?” he said hurriedly.

Alex gave him a look and went to the door as it opened.

Ethan sighed and then gave into the situation. Alex had been his friend, never hurt him in the past and had always been there for him during hard times. And Noma… well Noma’s secret was a major betrayal. But Arika’s quiet takeover had not gone unnoticed by the inhabitants of Vega, nor was it taken lightly. Ethan had made a pact a while ago that if the opportunity presented itself, he would find a way to thwart Arika and her brood, or discover a way out of Vega.

“How do I get this thing off of her?” Alex said, pulling Noma forward and out of the round contraption. 

“We need to switch off the current and then take the screws off,” Ethan said, without looking at Noma’s face.

They worked quickly, with David constantly looking over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for any incoming soldiers. His hands trembled as he took a deep breath. “We need to leave.”

Noma felt the pressure lifted from her shoulder blades as soon as she was free from the contraption. And then suddenly she felt herself being pulled into a tight embrace as Alex held her close. He kissed her cheek and just as quickly, released her.

“That’s sweet. Mind if we move it along?” David said with disdain.

The whole room shook all of a sudden as an explosion rocked the building. David glanced up at the ceiling, checking for cracks as he held his breath. Turning back to the rest of them, he urged, “Now!!”

Alex and Noma exchanged quick looks before they both picked up rifles from the unconscious soldiers lying nearby. Ethan remained silent as he grabbed his and led the way out to the nearest exit.

 

 

 

 


	35. So It Begins...

 

Another explosion rocked Vega, strewing debris and crumbling buildings. Its inhabitants ran for cover as soldiers darted towards the action near the North Gate. Winged beings were pitching and rolling about the sky, avoiding the turrets' gunfire and swooping in to destroy each of them one by one. The settlement had turned into an all-out chaotic mess as the angels slowly disarmed the wall's defenses.

Alex and Noma worked their way down the street, keeping to the shadows and struggling to remain out of the way as people fled for their lives. David followed closely behind them and Ethan kept watch over the rear.

People were panicking and what was left of the Archangel Corp flooded the streets to join Arika's army of black-clad wardens. The wardens were already lining the city walls. It struck Ethan as oddly convenient that the angels arrived now. Speaking of angels…

Noma found herself being shoved against a nearby wall with a rifle jammed into her throat. Ethan spat out, "Who are they? Is this because of you?"

Alex grabbed Ethan's arm. "What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Did you bring them here? Was this part of the plan?" Ethan said, frantic.

"It's not me, Ethan! They must be Gabriel's," Noma said breathlessly. She could easily shove him back, but she was afraid she'd probably exacerbate the situation. Or worse yet, hurt him.

"Let her go!" Alex said sternly, shoving his rifle against the back of his friend's neck.

Ethan's eyes widened as he turned to him. "You'll always pick them over us, won't you?"

"I'm not picking sides." Alex scowled as he spat out, "I'm trying to stop the fighting. I want it to stop too, Ethan."

His friend stared at him for a moment longer and then released his grip on her. Resigned, he moved a few steps back, lowering his rifle. Alex leaned closer to Noma, wordlessly showing his support and she gave him a small nod in response.

"She's going to leave," David said hollowly, standing frozen nearby. They glanced at him and then noticed what he was staring off at in the distance.

In the middle of the city square clearing, a large helicopter sat with its blades whirling. It was ready and waiting. Part of Arika's elite warden squad guarded it, but Arika was nowhere to be seen.

"Nice exit strategy," David said, wondering if perhaps he should have secured a seat on that chopper. He turned to Alex and said, "There's a way through the wall on the other side. The South Gate."

"That has been cemented in," Ethan said automatically without much thought, glancing over at the helicopter once more. His eyes kept moving, scanning for any incoming threats.

David's expression betrayed his panic. "Then the one by the West Gate?"

"That has been highly guarded by those in black for the last month. Since they arrived actually. Probably cemented up too." Ethan turned to David. "They've secured Vega from top to bottom. Arika made sure of it. The only way out is the North Gate. West and East have also been solidified."

Alex and Noma exchanged a momentary look. She shook her head as Alex quickly moved towards the nearby North Gate, having only an inkling of what he intended to do.

"Hey wait!" Ethan said, running after them and leaving David behind. The conflicted man hesitated to follow, pausing for a moment before reluctantly following behind the motley crew.

Another explosion blew the last of the turrets on the north wall and then everything stilled. Silence blanketed the settlement with the complete ceasefire. Alex and Noma stopped at the corner, crouched down and cautiously peered around it to get a good view of the gate.

The city's PA system screeched, causing all of them to cringe and cover their ears. Then it went silent once more. Vega's inhabitants stopped moving, looking up at the sky and wondering what was coming next.

Noma wordlessly squeezed Alex's arm as they remained close to the edge of the building, careful to remain out of sight.

"That can't be good." David's voice stammered as he stood close to them, pressed against the wall.

Ethan moved in and leaned over his friends to peer around the corner as well.

The North Gate was closed and guarded by various wardens and Archangel Corps soldiers. Their armed trucks were waiting to be deployed through the gate if needed. A sizable mass of elite wardens swarmed away from the gate, quickly marching closer as they headed towards the clearing.

Ethan quickly moved back from the edge and pulled at Alex's arm. All of them scurried backwards, looking for cover as the wardens rushed passed. In the middle of the sea of black was a splash of color.

"That's Arika," David whispered hoarsely.

The armed wardens moved fluidly at a clipped pace, aiming for the helicopter.

Lights flickered as a reminder that Vega was still under siege. The loudspeaker came on with another screech, and then silence once more as someone chose their words carefully. "VEGA INHABITANTS…LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS…WE DO NOT WISH TO FIGHT. WE ARE HERE TO ASSIST YOU," a pleasant female voice called out. It was a strange juxtaposition to their debris-strewn surroundings.

Ethan let out a scoff.

Noma froze. That voice was familiar. Alex leaned into her and whispered, "The moment you see a chance, fly!" She remained silent, narrowing her eyes at him and shaking her head.

"YOU HAVE A TRAITOR AMONGST YOU. YOU'VE LET THE SNAKE INTO THE GARDEN. HELENA'S QUEEN HAS TAKEN OVER YOUR VEGA WITH THE HELP OF GABRIEL AND HIS FOLLOWERS. YOU HAVE BEEN DUPED. DO NOT BELIEVE THAT THE HELENA SOLDIERS WILL HELP YOU IN THE WAR AGAINST GABRIEL AND HIS EIGHTBALLS." The voice paused, letting the significance of her words sink in.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Noma realized what was happening. She leaned closer to the blonde man. "Alex… she can be trusted," Noma said quietly.

A look of confusion crossed Alex's face as he turned to her. "You know who that is? That voice? You know who's attacking Vega?"

Noma shifted to the side as Alex stepped back from her with a look of betrayal. Yet again. It hurt her heart. "Raguel is on Michael's side. She can be trusted," she insisted.

He hissed, "You knew this was going to happen? Here?" He grabbed her arm and growled at her, his anger getting the better of him. "Was this part of the plan? To trick me into this?"

Yanking her arm out of his grip, she glared at him. "If you remember, I'm the one who _didn't_ want to come to Vega! I had no idea Raguel was planning on attacking!"

A different voice echoed out. A male voice, with less patience. "VEGA HAS BEEN TAKEN HOSTAGE! WE CAN HELP YOU! LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS AND OPEN THE DAMN GATES! THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!"

Noma looked stricken as Alex stared at her. She clearly recognized that voice as well.

He spat out, "And who would that be? Another friendly angel?"

"Incoming…" Ethan interrupted, grabbing Alex by the arm. "We have to go! Now!"

Bewildered, they were spurred into motion, setting aside their argument until another time. Noma turned the corner, heading towards the gate, only to find herself facing a wall of black.

Arika's elite wardens surrounded them and there was nowhere to escape to. Immediately, all three of them raised their rifles, while David slowly held his hands up in surrender.

Another screech and another voice came on; only this time it was Arika's voice echoing throughout the city. She had taken control of the comms once again. "WE HAVE THE CHOSEN ONE! IF YOU LEAVE VEGA IMMEDIATELY, YOU CAN TAKE HIM WITH YOU. VEGA DOES NOT NEED ANOTHER FALSE IDOL."

Alex looked past the wardens over at the clearing and found Arika standing by the helicopter, holding a radio mic to her mouth. She lowered it as she stared at them with a small smile. The woman was a survivor first and foremost.

Her wardens outnumbered them, giving them no option other than to surrender. Moving in unison, they immediately took their weapons, quickly yanking the rifles from their hands and shoving them to face forward, away from Arika and her helicopter.

"Oh great. Because this day wasn't sucking enough," Ethan said under his breath as he was seized by the arms and spun to face towards the North Gate.

* * *

Through the cloudy sky, the blazing sun beamed down on the desert sands surrounding Vega's walls. Smoke tendrils floated up to the sky as the city sat waiting. Waiting for the next move. The North Gate remained closed for a moment longer, leaving those outside to wonder if such an exchange would even occur.

Raphael stood by his truck still holding the radio mic he had yanked from Raguel's hand not too long ago. He was well aware of her irritation with him as she leaned against her own truck parked nearby. She was staring at him in that eerily motionless way of hers. But the tall redhead had been too pleasant over the loudspeaker, too pleasant for his liking. Jackson, her right-hand man, hovered protectively nearby as always, gripping his shotgun and throwing him dirty looks.

Raphael ignored them and mulled over Arika's words. Her response was unexpected, and he wondered if she really did have the Chosen One. Michael had been right, that Alex would make his way to Vega, but Raphael never thought he'd be there already. And how much of what the queen offered was truly on her terms and how much of it was part of Gabriel's plan? Raphael dropped the microphone back inside the truck, giving a nod to the soldier sitting inside who had hacked into Vega's main comms. And then he deftly climbed on top of the hood of the vehicle. Yanking out a pair of binoculars, he aimed it at the city walls and eyed them for any changes. After a moment, he lowered them and scanned the horizon, surveying those ready for battle. It was an impressive sight.

The Oracle Corps waited patiently among their own trucks, all of which were lined up at a distance from the city walls. They were removed just far enough to retreat to safety, yet close enough to use their weapons. Most of the trucks were strategically positioned near the North and East Gates. Michael's departure from New Delphi had been the beginning of an angelic reveal to its citizens. Raphael had to thank Azrael for rallying the troops and whipping them into shape, although his ability to heal others gained some favor amongst the distrusting. The rumor of his abilities had made the news less shocking, as most already believed he was anything other than human. Those standing on the front lines were either in support of him because of his ability to unify New Delphi, or because Azrael had convinced them that Gabriel's version of the future was direr than not fighting at all.

The Camp's own version of soldiers gathered on the other side of Vega, close to the West and South Gates. They were a rugged bunch with their own set of rules and jokingly called themselves, the Rebels. Raguel had seen to it that the most skilled of them were out front and ready for action, with their leader Dutch awaiting orders.

And then there was the Wing Battalion.

Raphael glanced up at the sky and let out a huff. It was a cute name that Jackson came up with a while back. Raguel found it amusing and so it stuck. As requested by Raphael, she had gathered as many of their own kind who would be willing to fight against Gabriel, and formed the small alliance. They waited in the sky with Azrael among them, waiting for the right signal.

Gazing at the North Gate once more, Raphael put his binoculars away.

The feuding would stop. He would see to it.


	36. Shift

Strong hands yanked Alex forward, moving him at a clipped pace to the gate. The doors opened slowly and he could see debris just outside the city walls. The sunlight was almost blinding as he stepped outside and into the desert. Noma was right behind him, along with David and Ethan struggling to stay upright. The elite wardens shoved them forward and set up a perimeter around the outside of the entrance.

A moment passed as Alex blinked into the brightness, his sight rapidly adjusting. He stepped forward, taking in the overwhelming spectacle of trucks and weapons. The line stretched as far out as he could see, disappearing off into the distance. Noma stood next to him, studying the vehicles down the road. She spotted Raphael still standing on the hood of his truck while Raguel stood in front of hers. “They’re here for something more, Alex.”

“You’re right,” a voice called out from behind her.

They turned to find Arika stepping through the gate with several more black-clad wardens. One of which was carrying a bullhorn. Arika kept her distance, staying close to the door in case she needed to make a hasty retreat. But she smiled, exuding calm. “They’ve come for the city. They’re guilty of what we’re all guilty of…greed. The city’s resources would be most useful to New Delphi and the Camp.”

Alex glanced at Noma briefly, wondering what to believe. Did it even matter anymore? He needed the strife to end between all of them. Gabriel caused more discord just by the threat of his existence. He shook his head slightly, pausing as he finally noticed that there were angels hanging in the air above.

Several higher angels landed on the roofs of various trucks behind Raphael. Their feathers ruffled in the breeze as they waited. Others remained in the sky, hanging just under Azrael as she scanned the expanse. She had a small comms unit in her ear to report back to the two angels below. Staring down at the Chosen One, she waited with unusual calm.

Alex stared up at her and wondered which side she was really on. He squinted into the light and noticed that there were no eightballs in the crowd.

Arika took the bullhorn from the nearby soldier. “TAKE YOUR TRUCKS AND LEAVE. AND TAKE YOUR PRECIOUS CHOSEN ONE.”

Standing next to Ethan, David cringed at the bullhorn’s intensity. Having similar thoughts of escape, both men had stepped further to the side, hoping to stay out of the direct line of fire. Ethan, however, lingered as he stared at his two friends in front of him and waited like everyone else.

Yet there was no answer from the frontline, only a shift in energy as the two archangels conferred. Raphael jumped down from the truck and leaned into Raguel. Time seemed to stop as everyone waited under the bright light.

And then someone darted down from the drifting clouds above. A blonde blur flew towards them only to be assaulted by the sudden onslaught of Azrael. She tackled the blonde angel and they rolled in the sand, coming to a halt in front of Alex and Noma.

A second later, Azrael was already up on her feet in a fighting stance with sword in hand, glaring at Uriel, who took her time as she slowly stood up, weaponless and frazzled. Her hair was a mess and she was wearing her high priestess clothing. She made no sudden moves, eyeing Azrael’s sword.

Behind Alex, Arika inhaled sharply and took an involuntary step forward. Concern shot through her as she stared at her lover. She had not been in touch with Uriel since she left Vega. It was all part of the plan, but she knew that dealing with Gabriel would have its risks. However, she didn’t think he would hurt his own sister. Her heart went out to the angel.

Uriel looked frazzled, splaying her hands out with a desperate cry. “No no no… Azrael! Help me!” she sputtered. She jerked about as if she was having muscle spasms. Exhausted and off-kilter. “I…I…”

Arika moved closer with the wardens flowing around her, keeping vigil. “Uriel, are you alright?”

The archangel’s frightened face turned to her lover’s voice. “Evelyn…Evelyn what have you done?”

Evelyn stared at her, remembering her resolve. Uriel said her real name. “Why are you here?”

Uriel stumbled closer, focusing on the queen. “I loved you.” Her words spilled over themselves.

Azrael swiftly flew forward and yanked the archangel backwards. “Explain yourself, Uriel!” Her grip on the blonde’s arm was formidable and the archangel looked up at her in confusion. She looked small and vulnerable, like a child. It was so unlike the Uriel that Azrael knew. It disturbed her.

The sound of more wings announced Michael’s presence and the wardens pulled Evelyn back, moving closer to the entrance of the city. Michael dropped down onto the sand. “STOP! Azrael!” he yelled.

Azrael gave him a look, but made no move to put the sword away. She stared down at the blonde angel and asked again. “Explain yourself. What have you done?”

Michael shrugged his wings away, making them disappear as he moved closer to them. The archangel was well aware that they were all on display at the moment, with an audience poised for some signal to charge at them. He walked past Alex and Noma, exchanging glances with her as he moved.

Alex’s glare burned into the angel. “Are you a part of this?”

The angel paused and turned to them as Noma quietly asked, “Do you have a plan?”

“This will only end badly.” Michael scanned the area, and watched as Azrael shoved his sister backward, causing her to stumble.

Alex shifted, his hands balled into fists. “Where have you been?”

Focusing on the Chosen One, Michael knew that their reunion would not be a pleasant one. But he had hoped it would be under different circumstances. He couldn’t help but feel proud of how different Alex seemed. He looked older and more seasoned. Perhaps more grown up. And then there was a sense of power that seemed to be shining through him. Michael involuntarily smiled at the boy, even though he felt the animosity towards him. “I have been looking for you.”

“You’ve been looking for me?” he spat out as he shifted forward. “To kill me? To use me? For what, Michael?”

The archangel blinked, smile gone. “No…I…”

“What is this for?” he pointed to his tattoos. “What am I really supposed to do with these? Did you learn anything while you were gone?”

“This may not be the opportune time to discuss this, Alex.”

“Then when is the time?! _When_?” The blonde man’s body trembled with adrenaline and anger. He scowled at the tall angel as Noma ran her hand down his arm, attempting to calm him down.

“He has Claire!” Uriel blurted out, interrupting the tension. “ _They_ have Claire!”

Alex immediately turned to the blonde angel, feeling his heart beat even faster. They all watched as Uriel staggered closer to him. Her body jerking about in an odd way. She confessed in a strangled tone, “I didn’t understand, Michael. I wanted peace, like you. I want Father to come back. I just want it all to stop.”

“So you betray me, sister?” Michael retorted.

Azrael stepped closer, still focused on Uriel. “Where is Gabriel?”

“Where is Claire?” Alex chimed in, stepping away from Michael.

A sound came from the front line and the angels turned to look over at the line of trucks. Raphael stood out front and center with his oversized purple wings stretching up to the sky. No one else moved by the trucks, all patiently waiting. And then he pulled his wings close to his body, yet left them out and visible. It was as if it had been Raphael who made the sound.

The shift in energy among Noma and Michael made Alex cringe. They knew something. “This was your plan? To bring every person here to this place? Really?” Shaking his head in frustration, he turned to Uriel. “What did Gabriel do with Claire? Where is she?”

She shook her head, her eyes moist with tears. “I didn’t…”

Scowling, his hands vibrated with adrenaline as he stepped closer and grabbed her. His voice was low as he demanded, “Where?”

She looked at him with remorseful eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks as she whispered, “I didn’t think…I wanted to make it better. You were supposed to make it better, Alex.”

Evelyn’s breath hitched as she saw her lover’s body language. “Let go of her!”

Alex ignored her, but glanced momentarily at Azrael who hovered nearby. Looking back down, he almost missed the slight change in Uriel’s demeanor. But something had shifted behind those eyes and she _felt_ different. It was just enough of a warning to let go of her. She still appeared remorseful, but Alex knew something had changed.

Without blinking, Uriel stared at Michael and then at Raphael off in the distance. Her voice was sober and the tears had stopped. “How did you really think this was going to end?”

“We can end this without bloodshed!” Raguel’s voice echoed over the desert sand. She stood waiting between trucks, with the microphone in her hand.

Uriel grimaced as she scanned the lineup. “You all stand with Michael? You too, Raguel?” she paused, a hurt look on her face. Then she turned back to the angels closest to her. “You’ve all chosen poorly! You have no idea!” she laughed abruptly for a moment, jerking forward, her limps twitching. “Do you think Father will return to _this_? To these creatures who destroy everything? Who destroy their own world? Why would he want to? You are all wrong. All wrong!”

Michael tilted his head slightly as he observed her strange behavior. “Uriel?”

She smirked at him, her face unnaturally joyful. Abruptly clapping her hands like a child, she laughed. “Oh Michael. So blinded. Do you not see? He will make it end. It’s inevitable that he will come to the same conclusion that I have. That all of this is fleeting, that it doesn’t matter. These lives do not matter. It’s in his blood, Michael.”

Michael stared at her without blinking. Those were his brother’s words. “You don’t know what you speak of, Uriel.”

“In whose blood? In my blood?” Alex asked, his body rigid.

“Don’t listen to her, Alex.” Noma hovered nearby, fighting the urge to take Alex and fly off.

Uriel turned away from Michael and focused on Alex. “You had your chance to learn of your father, of your lineage. You had a chance to stand with my brother. To remain loyal to him. Gabriel would have taught you what it meant to be the Chosen One.”

Alex scowled at her in disbelief. “Taught me???”

“Your father would have wanted you to rule over this world, this dominion. He would be proud of you!”

“Rule over dead people? He would want me to do what exactly? To slaughter everyone?? Have you lost your mind?” Alex fumed.

She clenched her jaw, the amusement gone from her face. Closing her eyes for a moment, she looked as if she were holding her breath, struggling to remain upright. A second passed and her eyes opened. She stared at him with distinct purpose. Stepping closer, she whispered hoarsely, “Claire is gone, Alex. And so is your precious unborn child. Gone! You will _never_ be a father to that quarterling.”

And before Alex could react, or anyone else could, Uriel shoved something sharp into his abdomen. He exhaled with a cry of pain and froze as she ripped her short sword up the length of his chest. Burning pain radiated out from where the blade broke skin and Alex’s body trembled as it went into shock. He stared at Uriel as his brain tried to comprehend what was happening. A satisfied smile and fascinated look crossed her face as she stared at him and turned the blade.

Someone yelled “NOOOOO!!!!”

And then suddenly Uriel was yanked away, along with the sword. She disappeared from his eyesight as he stumbled forward, released from the impalement. Swaying on his feet he felt someone coming closer to him, but nothing registered properly in his mind. Looking down, Alex touched his chest and then stared absently at the blood on his hands. He knew what had happened, knew who Uriel really was. Why hadn’t he seen it coming? Why had he been so stupid?

He clutched at his abdomen and choked on the blood that spurted up into his mouth. He took a step and then fell to his knees. Noma was there already, holding him, putting pressure on his wounds. “No no no!!” she chanted, trying to staunch the seepage.

Azrael stood nearby gravely looking down at him, with her swords hanging idly in her hand. She immediately sheathed them and turned to the frontline. “We need you!” she said to someone off in the distance.

Wings announced another angel and Alex gazed up to find the one who had been standing on the truck. It must be Raphael with blue eyes and a concerned look. Alex blinked and felt the world get brighter and brighter. He couldn’t see what was happening anymore and the sound of fluttering was getting louder and louder.

“Noma?” he whispered.

And he heard her voice. “Stay… please stay…”

And then everything went silent.

 

* * *

 

With a roar, Michael ripped Uriel away from Alex. He yanked her backwards, flying and tumbling into the sand as she fought back, shoving her sword at him in mid air. He deflected and hit her back, causing it to drop. And then Michael slammed her backwards so that she landed on her knees.

She stared up at him as he stood over with his sword poised on her neck. He thundered, “What did you do! He’s the Chosen One, Uriel! The one is supposed to bring Father back!”

A grin spread over her face as she stared up at him. A choked laugh escaped her bloodied teeth. “My brother, you will never learn.”

He glared at her, as she choked out another laugh. It dawned on him then. He was indeed _not_ speaking with his sister, but instead his twin. “Gabriel.”

He pulled his sword away from her neck and let shock settle in. Releasing her, he staggered backwards and refused to turn around. Michael knew what he would find and it hurt him. Touching his own chest, he stared blankly at his sister. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He should have known his brother would pull something like this. He should have known.

Uriel laughed hysterically for a moment and then abruptly stopped. The mirth drained out of her eyes and the possession ended as her body slumped down with exhaustion.

Blinking, the blonde archangel shook her head a little as if to clear her vision. Looking up, she wondered what had happened. “Michael?” Uriel asked. “What…what…”

She studied him, his face grave and angry. His body blocked the sight behind him, but she could hear someone crying out and someone else gasping for air.

Michael slowly took a step to the side, opening up her line of sight. Noma was hunched over someone. Someone blonde and bloodied.

And then realization set in. Uriel’s hands shook as she tried to stand up. “Not him… no! Not…no…”

Michael clenched his fists and closed his eyes as Uriel looked down at her own bloodied hands and sobbed.


	37. Adapt

The desert was quiet as a breeze rippled through and stirred the sand. Time seemed to stand still as everyone focused on the fallen Chosen One. Raphael landed near Azrael who kept her eye on the wardens. Hunched over the blonde man, Noma sobbed silently as she pressed down on Alex’s wound. Ethan was immediately there, pressing his uniform shirt onto the bloody mess. He kept repeating, “You’re going to be okay, Alex. You’re going to be okay.”

Raphael looked down at the dying man and hesitated.

Michael turned on his heels with a frustrated cry and finally faced what was happening. From across the sand, he dashed over. “Do something already!” he yelled, shoving his brother closer to Alex.

“Are you sure, brother?” Raphael growled back, grabbing Michael’s jacket. “Are you _sure_ he should live?”

“What are you talking about?” Noma yelled, looking up from the bloodied man. “Heal him! Now!”

Raphael ignored her, staring up at Michael who was gripping his jacket. “Think about it. If he dies, the possibility ends.”

Michael hissed, “The possibility of _any_ future ends, brother. Heal him, Raphael!” He glared at him as they stood in a deadlock.

And then someone clapped behind them.

“Bravo!! Bravo!!”

They turned their focus to the city gate, only to find Gabriel swaggering through the sea of black-clad wardens. Evelyn shrank backwards, stepping out of the way of the archangel. His wings were out but folded neatly against his back. He had a grin on his face and the energy of a cat that ate the canary.

Above the city, the clouds grew darker as if a storm was forming, rapidly moving over the city and dimming the sunlight. “So dramatic, such a show!” his deep voice rumbled as he stopped moving, halting not far from them.

Michael released his grip on Raphael and faced him. “You! You did this!”

“Astute as always, brother.” Gabriel smirked. “He learned a valuable lesson. He failed to join. The Chosen One is no longer.”

“Join or fall?”

Gabriel looked at the lineup of trucks and soldiers. “More specifically: join or die.”

Evelyn stepped backwards, slipping through the gate and disappearing altogether. David had already vanished around some corner; rushing to whatever safety he could manage.

Only Ethan remained. He stayed for his love for Alex. Sitting on his knees, he was covered in blood. “He’s dying, can’t you do _something_?” he yelled at Noma. She stared at him mournfully. If only she could.

“Oh tsk tsk, silly human.” A fake pouty concern appeared on Gabriel’s face. “Don’t you know? He’s already dead.”

Ethan ignored the angel and continued to shakily check Alex’s pulse. Noma knew that Alex’s heartbeat had been slowing down, but Ethan couldn’t tell. She couldn’t bring herself to stop him from attempting to revive him.

The sky above dimmed further with every passing moment, seemingly reflecting the somber mood.

Michael stared at the body in Noma’s arms. His own eyes started to blur from the ache in his chest. But it was the anger that was boiling up through him. That was the emotion that overwhelmed him.

Azrael laid a hand on his shoulder and he glared at her in response. She didn’t move, not entirely surprised by his reaction. “The cycle will not end this way, Michael,” she said, as if she knew what he was going to do next.

“It will,” he said under his breath as he focused on his smug brother.

Gabriel smiled at Raphael who had pulled his swords out. “Thank you for disarming the turrets. It makes Vega much more…inviting.”

Azrael unsheathed her own swords, readying herself for what was to come. “This ends now, Gabriel.”

The archangel grinned at her. “Oh, Azrael. You of all should understand that this is necessary. I never thought you would choose Michael’s side.” He paced to the left, nonchalantly, pausing for a moment. “I guess I should have known though.” He winked at her and then grinned at all of them. “Don’t you think I would come prepared? For all of you? Do you think that I would not have my _own_ army?”

As if on cue, the darkness above suddenly spilled down onto Vega. Eightballs came out of the woodwork, dropping from the sky like locusts. Winged ones latched onto the city walls, while an entire cloud of them hovered just above the settlement. Waiting, poised.

Michael stared at the swarm. “Call them off!”

Gabriel remained motionless, grinning at him. His teeth glinted in the light for a moment as he savored the look on Michael’s face. His grin got bigger as he responded, “Never.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed, a low rumble escaped his throat.

And then several things happened at once…

Immediately, Raphael took to the air, yelling into his comms, “BETA CLEAR!” He released a command to his undercover Beta teams, which were already stationed inside the city. Within seconds, all three of the remaining sealed gates of Vega simultaneously blew outward. “Go go go!” he yelled as he flew back to this own truck and nodded at Raguel who immediately took to the sky to join the Wing Battalion. They flew into the city, disappearing into the fray.

Above Vega, the rest of the eightballs descended onto the city buildings. They attacked anything and anyone that was still unlucky enough to be outside. Meanwhile, one particular team of lower angels flew towards a very specific destination.

Instantly, Azrael gave Michael a pained look and then also took to the sky. She had a mission and he wasn’t going to deter her from it.

Lead by Dutch and Edward Riesen, the lineup of trucks started towards the blown gates, quickly closing in on the city. They moved fast, rounding up escaping citizens and infiltrating the city through its gaping holes. The Rebels and Oracle Corps swiftly dispatched as many eightballs as possible.

And then there was Michael. He lost all sense of self, his fury boiling over as he stared at Gabriel. Within seconds, he took the element of surprise and flew at his brother, barreling into him like a rocket. He flew him backwards into the city through the North Gate, and slammed him into a nearby pillar. It crashed down around them, but Gabriel immediately lashed out, knocking him backwards. Michael’s wings snapped open, slowing his backwards trajectory. Jaw clenched, he held his swords out, ready for anything.

Gabriel faced him and slowly pulled his own sword from its sheath. A grin lit up his face as he delighted, “You haven’t learned, brother.”

Ignoring his words, Michael attacked but Gabriel moved fluidly to the side and sliced at him. He barely sidestepped out of the way, missing the blade and countered. Several eightballs flew through the clearing and took a swing at Michael, but he quickly dispatched them, slashing several across the chest and taking the head off of another.

Irritated by the distraction, Gabriel bellowed at several more stray eightballs as they flew into the mix. “HE IS MINE!”

The eightballs immediately withdrew, skittering away, and hovering nearby. Staring up at the swarm, Gabriel missed the moment that Michael refocused his attack on him. Flying straight at him, Michael slammed his sword into his face. They tumbled to the ground and traded punches. Within moments, their growling led to lost swords and old fashioned body blows.

* * *

Noma stared down at Alex’s face. It was pale and unmoving as she finally let go of him, releasing him to the ground as she glanced up at Ethan. Her wings shielded them from the chaos that had started, but she knew they couldn’t stay there long.

“You need to go, Ethan! Go! Go with Raguel. They will protect you,” she yelled as another explosion rocked the ground. Her wings tightened around them.

Ethan’s eyes were tearful and his hands were shaking. “I can't leave you two here.”

She shook her head and slowly opened her wings up, letting him go. “He’s gone, Ethan. This is it. You need to save yourself.”

He stared at her. His old friend with her wings spanned out, her face tear-stained and her hands bloodied. It made him want to cry even more. “I never thought that this was....”

Her eyes widened for a moment as she glimpsed passed him. “No!!!” she yelled a second too late as Ethan’s eyebrows raised in confusion. And then the pain crashed through him as he stared at her with lips parted, shock washing over his face.

An eightball stood behind him with a long slim sword that it she had shoved through Ethan’s torso. The eightball had a big grin on her face as she pulled the sword out and wiped his blood on his own shoulder.

For a moment, Ethan gasped for air, his eyes pleading with Noma to help him somehow. And then the moment passed and his eyes glazed over as his heart stopped. Slowly, he slumped forward, over Alex’s body, as if he were protecting his friend one last time.

Noma let out an anguished scream and took to the air, slamming into the eightball and yanking the long sword from her. Within two moves, she shoved the sword into her throat and yanked it upwards, decapitating the smirking eightball. Its body fell lifeless to the sand below.

Hovering in the air, she scanned her surroundings. The air was filled with lower angels doing battle with humans and the Wing Battalion. The city was on fire and all Noma could do was stare down at Alex’s bloody body and his true friend draped over him. Tears streamed down her face as she lowered herself slowly, her hand gripping the sword she had acquired. She couldn’t leave them there to rot in the midst of everything.

She landed and fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face as she picked up Alex’s limp hand. Noma knew it would be suicide to stay. Her back was exposed and she wasn’t concentrating on her own well being. Eventually, an eightball would decide to take her on. But did it matter anymore? Did anything _really_ matter?

And then someone landed next to her. She braced for a blow, but nothing happened. After a moment, she slowly looked up.

Raguel stood by her, holding a long spear. She glanced down at Noma, nodded in acknowledgement, and then stood sentry, scanning the area around them. Occasionally, she spoke into her comms, most of which Noma could not hear, except for one clear command, “As soon as they are full, retreat.”

Noma felt confused. Off in the distance, she could see trucks speeding off in droves, hastily leaving Vega’s vicinity. As if they were aborting their onslaught.

“Beta team is still sweeping,” Raguel said to someone on the other end.

A truck rumbled past at a clipped pace and then another one exited the North Gate. Noma stared at the open-sided truck filled with Vega citizens. “You’re evacuating them,” she said, dumbfounded.

She watched as several people stared back at her. Some she recognized. One in particular, David Whele. He was bloodied and pale, but he was alive. And sitting next to him was his son, dressed in Oracle Corp gear. Their blue eyes stared at her as they passed by. William put his arm around his father, holding him close as the truck disappeared down the road.

“This was never going to be the war that Gabriel wanted,” Raguel said quietly as she looked down at Noma. “Not if we could help it.”

“It was always going to be a rescue mission,” Raphael said, quietly landing on the other side of her. He glanced over at the redheaded angel. “And it’s going well.”

Noma looked up at him. “Please Raphael… please.” Her hand ran over Ethan’s hair and over Alex’s bloodied chest.

He crouched down and touched the young soldier. And then for good measure, placed his hand on Alex’s. After a moment, he moved back and briefly touched her shoulder. With a sullen look, he straightened. “You know I can not heal them if they’ve already left this world.”

Noma’s eyes spilled over with tears once more as she lowered her face and then nodded. She knew but she had to ask.

“Azrael hasn’t checked in yet,” Raguel said with concern.

Raphael’s jaw clenched. “Well, no one ever claimed this would be easy.” He pushed the button on his comms. “Azrael, report!” Only static answered and a muffled voice. He hissed, “Something went wrong.” Giving Raguel a look, he took to the air.

Clutching the dead men’s hands, Noma watched as the archangel disappeared into the distance, heading straight into Vega.

* * *

Evelyn knew it was time to leave as soon as those words fell out of Gabriel’s mouth. She knew that they were all doomed. During her time in Vega, she hoped she wouldn’t be right, that the other shoe never dropped. That Gabriel would hold true to his word. But it was all over and she wasn’t waiting around to see what happened next. As soon as she could, she fled to the center of the city with her crew of elite wardens.

They had a truck waiting near the gate in case everything went sideways. The truck rapidly barreled through the city, barely screeching to a halt near the helicopter.

“Why is it not running?” she yelled, disappointed that the blades had stopped turning. She ran to the cockpit only to find a bloodied pilot. His lifeless eyes stared back at her. Several eightballs landed around the helicopter and her wardens immediately moved into action, dispatching them quickly. Many more of the wardens were still around the city, fighting off eightballs and anyone that opposed them. Ultimately, they would leave the settlement as soon as she made her escape.

Evelyn panicked as she looked around the helicopter. She needed to get out of Vega. Immediately, she shoved the pilot’s body out of his seat. “Now!” she yelled at her remaining wardens, one of which climbed into the pilot’s vacant seat. The warden nodded at her and started up the machine. The blades were whirling in minutes as Evelyn buckled herself in.

As soon as it was ready, they lifted into the air. The side doors were left open, allowing the other wardens to shoot anything that flew too close. They moved swiftly upwards, avoiding as many obstacles as possible. Her new pilot tilted the helicopter to avoid any skirmishes in the air, taking the scenic route over Vega. Below, the scene was terrifying. Evelyn stared out of the window with both fascination and horror.

Eightballs crawled and skittered over buildings and then flew about, lighting fires and throwing explosives at anything that moved. Several of them were destroying the grain silos and any of the important buildings that Vega once had. City Hall was already been blown to pieces. And she could see trucks leaving Vega behind while people streamed out of the blown gates.

She had no idea what was happening to the city, but she needed to get to Helena before Gabriel did. What happened below could just as easily happen to Helena. Evelyn held her breath as they banked to the left, passing by the nuclear plant. It was teeming with eightballs skittering down its sides and a mass of them breaking the front entrance. The helicopter banked again, this time to the right, quickly passing by the city walls and out of Vega’s airspace.

Evelyn let go of the breath she was holding; only to grab onto her seat as the helicopter suddenly wobbled violently. Something had slammed into it.

Something blonde.

* * *

Azrael banked right to avoid the fleeing helicopter and then left to avoid another skirmish in mid air. She had already slain enough to fully coat both of her swords in eightball blood. Making her way to the nuclear plant took longer than she would have liked.

And then she found the swarm that she was looking for.

She had warned Raphael that Gabriel would do what she would do if she were planning on annihilating all of Vega. The nuclear plant would be the first thing to push into a meltdown. If the humans didn’t die immediately, they would die eventually from the radiation poisoning. Gabriel would find it most efficient.

Sadly, she was right.

A large army of eightballs blocked the entrance to the main control center. They seemed to be waiting, or perhaps hesitating to enter the building. All they had to do was blow the main regulations board and keep the cooling rods from doing their job, and the whole thing would eventually go critical.

But the radiation alone would make them hesitate. Even a higher angel could easily be hurt by it.

Without hesitation, Azrael flew into the chaos and did what she did best. She taught the lower angels a lesson.


	38. Until the End

Noma slowly turned Ethan onto his back, placing his hands at his sides. He looked like he was sleeping peacefully. And so did Alex. Except that Alex looked anything but peaceful. Leaning over him, she felt heartbroken and didn’t care much for anything else. Despair was all that she had left. Father was gone, the angels had no Home, and Gabriel had seen to it that Earth was desiccated. The humans didn’t trust them and their lives didn’t matter anymore.

The one hope that she had was that this man would bring everyone together. And instead, he lay lifeless in her arms. Tears ran down her cheeks as she pulled his limp body into her arms. Her wings unfurled and stretched out, cocooning both of them from the outside world. It gave her a moment of privacy as she leaned down and briefly kissed his forehead, and then softly on his lips. His body wasn’t cold yet, still warm and pliable, almost as if he would wake at any moment from a deep sleep.

She whispered to him, “You are loved, Alex. You have always been loved. I love you. Be at peace.”

She leaned her forehead against his cheek and took a moment of solace, pressing him close to her. His solid body was heavy and muscular against her and she welcomed the weight of it. She looked down the length of his arm and saw the tattoos. They were still there. Unmoving.

And yet…

…and yet they seemed to shimmer just a little. As if they were coasting along the top of a dark lake. And every time she focused on them they were still, but out of the corner of her eye they looked like they were moving, snaking around his arm.

Pulling away from him, she looked down at Alex’s face and then studied his neck. Something was happening. The warmth she was feeling wasn’t dissipating, it was increasing. As if his body was becoming a furnace. “Alex?” 

A small glimmer of hope shot through her as she noticed the tattoo crawl up the sides of his neck, trickle onto his face and up to his temples, framing his face. They were glimmering and shifting, brighter with each passing moment. And then she noticed his face contorting, as if he were in pain. 

A second later, he took a breath. His entire body shuddered with the effort. 

“Alex!” Noma grabbed his face, cradling it as she grinned down at him. “Alex, you’re ok! Wake up, please!” 

His hands automatically grabbed her wrists and held them tightly, yanking them away from his face as he suddenly jerked upright. His eyes opened, blinking rapidly. But there were no irises, only a silvery-white glow blanketed his orbs.

“Alex?” His name died on her lips as she stared at him. He might not be the Alex she once knew. It dawned on her then, that he might be something else entirely. 

He gently pushed her back and let go of her hands. And then he looked down at his own hands. They were covered in scrolling symbols as the tattoo took over as much skin as it could. It was doing something, telling him something, coursing over him and through him. 

Noma pulled her wings away and shuffled back a bit, her knees ached from the sand. “Alex? Are you… _you_ anymore?” she stammered, her anguish palpable. 

Raguel was not far from her, still dealing with coordinating through her comms. She turned to find the glowing man staring at her. Pausing for a moment, she took a step closer to Noma. “Noma, we must leave. Now.” 

Conflicted, Noma stared at her lover. “What have you become, Alex?”

“Noma!” Raguel’s voice was more urgent this time as she unfurled her own wings. “You need to leave now. We all do!” And then she took to the sky, not waiting for her to follow. 

Alex watched the redhead leave and then turned his focus on Noma. It took him a moment as he stared through her, but finally he registered who she was. “Noma.”

“Are you…”

He slowly moved back and stood up. The glowing tattoos rapidly flowed over his skin in a way that made it look like it was flickering. Like a ticking time bomb. He turned from her and faced the city’s North Gate. An open maw to the decaying city. 

Gusts of wind picked up speed all around them. A storm was brewing. The clouds were darker than when the eightballs descended and Noma couldn’t tell where it was coming from. 

“Are you doing this?” she asked loudly, competing with the howl of the wind.

He didn’t move at first. His ripped bloodied shirt fluttered around him as he stared at Vega. It was as if he was searching for something.

“Alex?” she yelled.

He looked over his shoulder at her, his eyes beaming. “You should leave, Noma,” he said, eyebrows knit with concern. The expression was so familiar to her that it gave her a false hope that he was somehow still in there somewhere.

“Don’t go…” she said, stepping forward, reaching out to stop him. Her hand barely grazed his shoulder, but it immediately stung with pain. She yanked her hand back, cradling it as it burned. It was cold to the touch and felt like she had dipped it in ice.

He looked at her with a pained expression. “I’m already gone,” he whispered with anguish. A moment passed and then he turned away. With resolve, he started towards the opening. 

“No! Alex!” she yelled after him, wanting to stop him, but knowing in her gut that she couldn’t touch him. That skin…there was nothing she could physically do to stop him. And perhaps she shouldn’t. Something inside of her warned against it. Perhaps he was doing exactly what he needed to be doing. 

Eightballs dropped to the ground and followed behind him as he walked through the gate and into the city. None of them would go near him, but they followed closely, like a rabid pack of dogs. 

Noma watched as he disappeared, leaving her behind on the outside. She massaged her hand and whispered one last time to herself, “Alex, what have you become…”

Someone landed behind her, yet she didn’t move. A red-armored angel stepped closer, standing next to her as she stared after the Chosen One. Noma looked up at her former lover with forlorn eyes. Furiad stood with her. In solidarity. Despite everything.

* * *

 

Inside the city walls, Michael and Gabriel traded blows. Debris flew everywhere as they flung themselves back and forth into the crumbling buildings. Gabriel had already nicked Michael’s arm with his empyrean blade, and Michael had slashed Gabriel’s upper leg.

They were both bloody and sword-less as they beat each other with a rage that could be felt by those around them. At the moment, Michael seemed to be winning as he held his brother down into the crumbled concrete, causing gashes to the side of his brother’s head. They were so focused on each other that neither of them noticed that the chaos around them had stopped. That the eightballs were no longer zooming by. 

Suddenly anything that flew, hung back. Almost as if it were a ceasefire. As if they were waiting…

* * *

 

Azrael slashed through another eightball as she flew around the nuclear plant. The horde was harder to dispatch than she cared to admit, and it was definitely taking longer than she liked. Turning the corner, she found Raphael slashing through another group of skittering lower angels who had the audacity to try their hand at taking him on.

She flew in and helped him, slamming into one half dressed female and then backhanding another who flew up behind her.

“I thought you had this!” Raphael called out to her in a mocking tone.

Azrael gave him a look, and the distraction cost her as another one came out of the woodwork and actually caught her on jaw. She tumbled backwards through the air and then gave chase as it flew away from her and the plant, crisscrossing over the city and then suddenly careening to a halt.

It hung in the air and stared down at the scene below, suddenly entranced. Their chase was forgotten.

Azrael flew up behind it and shoved her blades into its back, yanking them up and taking off its wings. With barely a shriek, the eightball plummeted to the ground below. Satisfied, Azrael flapped her wings and was about to turn back to the plant when she noticed something strange.

Eightballs hung in the air all around her, flapping their wings and gazing at something. None of them fought, none of them gave chase. Nothing was happening. All of them entranced and focused on one thing.

Azrael gazed down at the destruction.

Something glowed as it edged its way closer to the pair of warring archangels.

* * *

 

Another piece of a building blew apart and part of it came down as Michael once again flew at Gabriel. This time he had found one of his lost swords. Gabriel had just enough time to block his attack and slam Michael in the face before the nearby water tank spilled its contents everywhere, washing them out onto the street. The two brothers laid in the midst of debris, mud and slosh.

Soaked and exhausted, Michael slowly stood up, still gripping the sword. His anger still fueled him, despite his weariness and his wounds.

Gabriel laughed as he pushed himself up. His sword was a few feet from him. He had lost his grip on it during the washout.

Michael yelled at him. “You have doomed us, brother.”

“Have I now?” Gabriel retorted, smacking the puddle near him, splashing the water at his brother for a momentary distraction. And then he made for his sword.

But Michael was faster, kicking him back and holding his blade to his brother’s throat. 

Gabriel laughed again, surprised that Michael paused, despite everything that had transpired between them. “Go ahead, brother. Why do you hesitate?”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “For the glimmer of hope that you are still the Gabriel I once knew. That you’ll see the error of your ways!” 

Blood ran out of Gabriel’s mouth, dribbling between his teeth and down his chin as he grinned up at him. “It makes no difference now, Michael. The Morning Star will see to it.” He swallowed hard. “It was all part of the plan.” And then he laughed maniacally. 

Realization began to sink in as Michael stared at his brother’s beaten face. He said slowly, “You’re mad. You’re truly mad.”

“Am I? It makes perfect sense,” Gabriel explained proudly. “It never occurred to me that the Morning Star was right… not until Father left us here. There was never going to be a world for us. The Nether World was never going to suit me.” He paused. “Father’s construct will not allow for the Morning Star to rule here. Not without help.” 

“Alex…” Shock permeated Michael’s body as he realized the consequences of Gabriel’s actions. 

Gabriel giggled, more blood dribbling out. “There is no better beacon to light.”

Michael pressed the blade harder into his neck, cutting into his skin. Crimson started flowing. “That light was extinguished by you, Gabriel. Alex is gone.” 

A dark look passed over his brother’s face as his smile turned more sinister. “Is he, now? Are you sure?” His attention shifted to just past Michael. 

Distracted, Michael glanced back to find something bright moving towards them from across the clearing.

Striding forward into the area, Alex walked with purpose. His eyes blazed brightly, distracting everyone in the vicinity. The eightballs behind him stopped moving when he halted in front of the brothers. His skin flickered rapidly as the tattoos shifted and moved. It was odd and distracting.

Michael’s mouth fell open at the sight of him. And his sword was almost forgotten until Gabriel shifted, bringing his attention back to his brother. Glaring, he remembered his anger. “What did you do, Gabriel? Are you mad? Father will never return now!” He shoved the sword further in, fully motivated to finally end him. 

But he didn’t get far. 

“ENOUGH!” Alex threw both hands up, with his palms out. He concentrated and shifted his weight.

A blast of energy hit both of them and they broke apart, each thrown in opposite directions. Gabriel smashed into a remaining pillar of a broken building, crumbling it on impact. And Michael was sent across the clearing as he smashed into a tree and cracked it with the force of his body. Crumpling to the ground, neither brother stirred for a moment. 

And then Michael pulled himself upright, still in shock as he stared at the Chosen One. 

Alex’s glowing eyes watched him as he stumbled closer. One of his glowing palms followed him, hand outstretched and aimed at Michael. The archangel implored, “Alex…” 

“This ends now!” Alex’s strange hollow voice echoed throughout the settlement as if he had a microphone.

“Don’t do this…” Michael said, blood dripping down the side of his face.

Alex blinked at him. A moment of recognition in his eyes as his brows furrowed. After a moment, he hesitantly lowered his hand. “Michael?”

And then something heavy barreled into the archangel, tumbling him into the rubble and puddles of water. Wings slashed Michael’s ribs as Gabriel reinstated the onslaught. He slammed the hilt of his sword into his brother’s face, stunning him momentarily, and then hoarsely yelled, “The Chosen One is right! We _will_ end this!” 

Gabriel tried to hit him once more but Michael flew upwards to put distance between them, only to have Gabriel fly after him, smacking into him again.

Alex watched them for a moment, his face showing the conflict inside. To intervene, or not? To finish it. Or destroy everything.

Michael grabbed his brother and flew straight into the concrete ground, slamming them both into it in order to stun his brother. As quick as he could, Michael rolled away and got back on his feet. He stood over his brother with a scowl as Gabriel grinned up at him, blood streaming down his neck. His sword again laid just a foot away. “You will see. The world will be better for it.”

Michael scowled as he raised his sword and went for it. And then everything happened at once: Gabriel shoved Michael’s wrist back, knocking him in jaw and then twisted down to swipe his own sword. Meanwhile, Michael slashed downward just as Gabriel shoved his empyrean steel upwards. The blade slammed into Michael’s abdomen and shoved up the length of his insides before protruding out of his back. Gabriel buried it until the hilt hit skin. Michael’s breath caught as he froze.

And then Gabriel staggered. Michael’s own blade had made its home in his clavicle; the blade partially shoved down the length of his chest, peeking out of the other side.

The two brothers were stunned, still gripping their respective weapons. Michael’s mouth worked as he tried to take in air. Blood was already welling up into his mouth as he watched Gabriel’s shocked face as he tried to recover. He pulled his sword from Michael’s body, but Michael wouldn’t let go of his, involuntarily gripping it as he sputtered.

Standing firmly with feet planted further apart, Alex stared at them. His tattoos flickered ever faster. Their light got brighter as they pulsed. “You have no idea what you’ve done.” His voice echoed again. It sounded almost remorseful.

More winged creatures moved closer, curiosity drawing them to the Chosen One.

* * *

 

Azrael hung in the sky, staring down at the scene below. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, as if she were transfixed by the Chosen One.

Below her, the city was hazy with smoke and the majority of the humans were gone. The Camp and Oracle Corps had done their job – they had been evacuated and were on their way to safety. It had been Raphael’s plan all along. She could see the trucks off in the distance rapidly disappearing, with only a few left outside of the North Gate, where Raguel and Dutch were supposed to wait.

The glow from the Chosen One pulled at her. She felt a strong urge to get closer. But something kept her at bay, kept her hanging in the sky. Something told her that this was not meant for her. 

But the eightballs were a different story. They had stopped their assault and were landing in the clearing below, inching closer to the city center, closer to the Chosen One. All eyes were on him as well as the two archangels fighting in front of him.

“Michael…” Concern shot through Azrael as she watched Gabriel shove his sword through him. Immediately, she flew forward, wanting to intervene. 

But someone barreled into her, spinning her away from the city’s center. Tumbling upwards, Azrael yanked herself away as she righted herself. Ready to attack, she turned to find Raphael hanging in front of her with wide fearful eyes. “AZRAEL! Wake up! We must leave! NOW!” 

Blinking, she felt confused. As if a spell had been broken. Glancing down, she noticed Alex’s body flickering faster. The glow was getting brighter and brighter, rippling out from Alex and encompassing the whole area. The eightballs were closing in on him, tightening their circle. Alex’s hands were out and blue flames burned on the tips of his fingers. 

Raphael’s hand gripped her arm tightly and he wrenched her away. “NOW!!!” he growled. Within seconds, they were flying north, leaving everything behind. Her last glimpse of her lover was of him staggering forward onto his knees and slumping over. His brother stood by him with an ashen face and blood dripping down his leg. That look was the Gabriel she once knew, the Gabriel that once remembered what was right and what was wrong.

Too little, too late.

* * *

 

Michael struggled to remain upright as he squinted at the bright beacon in front of him. Hugging his torso, he glanced at the blood on his hands. He knew that most of it was pooling inside of him as he gurgled and coughed every time he tried to take in air. Looking up at his brother, he watched, as Gabriel remained motionless, transfixed by the Chosen One. He, too, was hunched in pain. And then something shifted in his body language. 

Gabriel turned to him with an odd expression. “Perhaps I was a bit rash…” he said in a light tone, giving him a quirked eyebrow. It was absurd and Michael wanted to laugh at him out of the sheer ridiculousness of it all, but the blood gurgled out of his mouth instead, as his body trembled with the mere effort of breathing.

They both squinted into the brightness, as Alex remained rooted to the spot like a burning statue. The eightballs had made a tight perimeter around them and seemed to be waiting for something.

And then Alex’s tattoos pulsed three more times, shooting bright beams out into the surrounding circle. His mouth fell open as strange words spilled out, words in the old tongue, Lishepus. It was beautiful and lyrical as his voice resonated throughout the crumbling city.

Immediately, the nearest eightballs clutched at their heads and scratched at their faces as they fell over. Their muscles spasmed and their eyes began to bleed as pressure built up inside their skulls. A low moan echoed from them as one by one their bodies shivered and then stopped, staring glassily up at the sky. Their bodies were once again human shells as each eightball was exorcised into the nether. 

The light dimmed for a moment as Alex threw back his head and let loose a scream that thundered through the settlement. Beams of white light poured out of his tattoos and opened mouth, sweeping the area in a perfect circular bubble that grew larger with every passing second. As the brilliance expanded and overtook the area, a resounding rumble rippled through the debris. The bubble got larger, blinding anyone in its midst as it rapidly grew closer to the two wounded archangels.

With pain etched into his face, Michael took one last glimpse up at Gabriel before they disappeared into the radiance. Gabriel was already studying him, his own face covered in remorse as he tilted his head in that familiar way of his. And then a split second later, he slammed into Michael, grasping him around his ripped torso, and propelled them both forward into the debris-strewn air. 

And then there was no more. 

Everything vanished into the luster as it took over all of Vega. 

* * *

 

Standing on the top of a nearby ridge, Raphael clenched his fist as he stared at what was left. Azrael stood next to him with her wings stretched out, feeling the rush of the air currents as they blew through her feathers. What was below was only heartache. And yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away.

It looked like a dome of silver had cocooned the settlement, and was expanding outward past the walls and into the desert. The light pulse twice more, as if it were a signal for something. And then a beacon of blue light shot upwards into the clouds above, momentarily brightening the entire upper atmosphere. 

And then the dome retracted into itself, sucking in sand and debris as if it were black hole hoovering up all that lived around Vega. An eerie silence made Azrael’s light breaths sound like they were echoing through the valley below. The area was still as the air currents disappeared.

A second later, a thunderous BANG cascaded outwards, rippling through all that once stood, and shaking the earth beneath the archangels’ feet. Fragments were flung out of the center of it as city walls were flattened and whole sections were leveled. 

Once the rippling force finally reached the two angels, they took to the air as they tumbled backwards from the impact. Once she sorted herself out, Azrael stood once again on the ridge. Her hands clenched into fists as she stared at the rubble and wondered if anyone could survive that. Even an archangel wouldn’t survive such damage. 

Landing next to her, Raphael took a deep breath. He glanced at her and noticed the tears wet on her cheeks. His own heart clenched as he reached over and took the warrior angel’s hand. They stood together in silence. He had no words left and neither did she.


	39. Chosen

The city blew sideways. Buildings cracked and walls flattened outward, rapidly falling into a layered circular pattern, much like petals of a compressed flower. From above, it would have looked concentric, beautiful…if such destruction could ever be called _beautiful_.

At the center of the devastation was the Chosen One.

The light gradually fled from the world, dissipating from its assault, and the glow disappeared altogether from his eyes, leaving them blue, blood-shot and weeping. He closed his mouth after a moment and blinked as stared up at the cloudy sky, the colors slowly coming into focus. His body shuddered and gave in to the sudden exhaustion that took hold. Falling to his knees with a jolt rebounding through his bones, he closed his eyes for a moment of relief.

He ached. And that strange rumble was still echoing through his head, making his surroundings feel eerily quiet. He leaned forward onto his knuckles and took a deep breath. What had he done?

Opening his eyes, he steeled himself for the view in front of him. The area immediately around him was barren of anything. No debris, no bodies. He had been the eye of the storm, but further out he could see the damage. Buildings and walls were crumpled. Smoke and dust filled the air, slowly clearing as the wind swooped in and flowed throughout the settlement. Bodies littered the hills of rubble. As far as his eyes could see, there were hills upon hills of wreckage, covered in fallen bodies.

Alex's chest tightened.

He closed his eyes for a moment as a wall of emotion ripped up from his stomach and into his head. For a moment he allowed it, tears poured from his eyes and a moan of pain and anguish escaped his mouth. His shoulder shook for a moment as he cried. What had he done? He _was_ the destruction of everything. _He_ was the one who ended it all.

After a moment, he swallowed it down and took a deep breath. What had transpired was his doing. He looked at his hands and searched for the tattoos. But they weren't there. Frantically pushing his sleeves up, he touched his skin. His bare, empty, tattoo-less skin. They were gone. The markings were gone. Grabbing at his shirt he looked down at his chest to find more smooth unmarred skin. "No!" he said to himself in disbelief.

As if to answer his anguish, something rippled under the skin on the back of his neck. Alex froze. Cautiously, he touched it and exhaled in relief. The tattoo, the words…they were still there. Just underneath his neckline. A small symbol at the base of his neck. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it. It rippled in response to his touch, and it reminded him of the power that easily flowed through his veins now. He briefly touched his fingers together and reveled in the spark between them. A small glow lit up his fingertips, reminding him of what he had become.

Off in the distance, another piece of wreckage fell with a resounding clang, bringing him back to his surroundings. Pushing himself onto his tired legs, he took a few steps forward. He needed to know how much he destroyed. Was it really everything? Was the world really desiccated? Had he really annihilated everyone? Are those all eightballs or humans as well? Why couldn't he remember everything that had happened?

Moving slowly, he paused at the closest hill of debris and scanned the area. Picking his way through the broken pieces of concrete until he was in the midst of everything, he paused after spotting a familiar sight. His heart clenched and his mouth went dry.

Crumpled black wings coated in a think layer of white dust barely concealed Michael's bloodied face. He lay in the center of the chaotic mess, his face serene despite the wounds. Alex couldn't bring himself to take a closer look. His breath hitched and he wondered if he might throw up.

Not too far from Michael was another prone broken-winged angel. By the look of his jacket, it was Gabriel. Alex's stomach churned and he suddenly felt numb. Kneeling down, he had to stop for a moment. He listened to the world around him. At first, it was oddly peaceful.

Except for one sound. An alarm slowly intruded his mind. Had it always been there? Or was he only now hearing it?

It threatened danger off in the distance. Alex cringed as he realized what it was. It was the nuclear reactor. That didn't bode well. If anyone were alive, they wouldn't be for long. His stomach flip-flopped at the thought, and yet he couldn't push himself to stand up.

A piece of metal crunched, the sound approaching from one of the distant hills of bodies.

Someone was walking through the debris. Someone dressed in white. Someone with wings.

Alex blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision of stray tears. And then he looked up as the winged being flew closer, slowly descending, and landing right by Michael's prone form. Leisurely pacing forward, the booted feet passed the two brothers and meandered straight to Alex. Staring upwards, the Chosen One held his breath as he remained on his knees.

Alex's blue eyes watered once more. A look of awe and resignation crossed his face as he gawked up at the oversized angel in front of him.

Dressed in a white-and-tan tunic with elaborate scrolling filigree and a silver pauldron on his left arm, the massive angel looked like he belonged in a different era. The angel's wings were a pristine white, so white that the feathers were glowing.

A sizable hilt of a broad sword peaked up from behind his neck and his white blonde hair was pulled back, showing off his olive skin. He looked pristine, shiny and new with no dirt or blood on him. And he smiled at him beatifically and with pride. His almond shaped pitch-black eyes pierced Alex as he stared down at him in that unblinking otherworldly eerie manner. He looked like a statue of a mythical creature. Perhaps even a hero in a tale told to small children.

Stopping a foot away from Alex, he was close enough to touch. The angel lowered his hand, offering his palm as he continued to beam down at him.

Alex looked at the broad hand in front of him and then craned his head back to truly face the strange creature. Tears spilled out of his eyes as he tilted back and noticed the angel's armor. It had a peculiar sigil on it, in the form of a many-pointed star.

The clouds above parted and the bright sun revealed itself again, brightening just behind the angel's head as if it gave him a broken halo. Blinking away the wetness, he gazed at the stranger's face in awe.

He knew this face. Something tickled at his memory.

The unblinking giant smiled again at him, this time revealing his teeth. Teeth that protruded out just a bit…sharp pointed teeth.

Alex swallowed and his body shuddered involuntarily. He didn't want to know this creature, but somehow he did. Taking a deep breath, he tried to retain all that he had been. Before the choosing.

What had he _done_? How did he become… _this?_ He couldn't remember who he once was, where he had once been. But all that he could remember were those hills. The hills of red.

And this smiling face.

"Father?"


	40. Epilogue

The alarms became louder and more urgent as the dust settled. Booted feet landed in the debris immediately hastening through the corpses and rubble, heading directly to the two prone brothers.

Another set of boots landed nearby, following suit.

"Hurry, Raphael." Azrael's voice was urgent as she dashed to Michael's body. Carefully, she lifted his wings as Raphael crouched down by Gabriel and turned him over. The bloodied body and broken wings moved where they shouldn't.

Azrael glared at the crouched archangel. "Leave him. Help me with Michael."

Raphael hesitated. Despite everything, Gabriel was still his brother.

The flutter of more wings announced Noma as she landed in the center of the clearing. She searched the clearing, eagerly hoping for a glimpse of blonde hair as she rubbed her hand subconsciously.

"He's gone." Noma's throat tightened as she attempted to remain calm.

Raguel hung in the air above her, scanning the surroundings. "It was a possibility," she stated, nodding slightly as she moved over the area, searching for anyone else that may be alive. "We need to hurry though. The acolytes succeeded. They enriched the plant."

Nodding, Noma took to the air again and rushed over to the others. Landing nearby, she watched as Azrael hissed at the hesitant Raphael. "Leave him!"

Raphael carefully lifted Gabriel's arm and placed it over his shoulder. "We save both, Azrael."

Another crash off in the distance, and the alarms continued to echo. And then Raguel swept in. "We need to go _now_! HURRY!" she urged as she flew up, leaving Raphael to follow closely after, clutching Gabriel's body against him.

Azrael immediately wrapped her arms around Michael's torso and took to the air. Noma flew after them, quickly grabbing his legs and staying in time with Azrael.

Several other angels followed behind them as they left the settlement and headed north. A few angels carried the remaining humans who had been under their protection. Jackson held tightly to one angel's hands as he dangled in the air. And Dutch squeezed his eyes shut and cringed as they flew at full speed.

Moments later, the world grew brighter. Everything imploded and then mushroomed up into the sky. The whole of Vega blew outwards, dust and debris and radiation spewed its way across the desert. Clouds billowed upwards and the color of the sky rippled as the nuclear disturbance tore through the air.

Just barely out of the blast zone, the angels shifted higher as they zoomed away to safety, risking their own lives and the humans they carried. At top speeds, they aimed north and east, searching the sands below...

Further off in the desert, far past the radiation zone and safely on their way to a new life, the train of trucks filled with the evacuated citizens sped on.

Vega was behind them now, as they raced forward towards their future. The uncertain future…

 

_The Chosen One has chosen…_

* * *

_~~~**Author’s Note**~~~_

And that concludes my version of the second season. (Just in time for the show’s actual second season!) I hope you enjoyed this crazy journey as much as I did. It was definitely a labor of love and it became more epic than I first intended when I started writing it. In the end, I had to plot out the last half of it – which is why I didn’t post for so long (even though I was still working on it). I’ve been writing this since September! Holy hell! (I’ll be going back to my novel now…)  
  
I hope you’ll let me know your thoughts and/or any questions you may have. Or just drop me a line to let me know someone out there is reading this crazy thing…  
  
Enjoy the return of the real second season! Cheers!

 


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